


Retiens la nuit

by TeamLouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A bit of angst maybe, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - The Holiday (2006) Fusion, American Harry Styles, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, British Louis Tomlinson, Chef Harry Styles, Christmas, Fluff, Holidays, I'm sorry I don't know how to tag, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Top/Bottom Versatile Harry Styles, Top/Bottom Versatile Louis Tomlinson, Winter, Writer Louis Tomlinson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:28:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27711361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamLouis/pseuds/TeamLouis
Summary: “Where's Niall?" Louis asked."He didn't tell you?""What?""He's in San Francisco. In my house. For the holidays. We switched our houses.""What? People really do that?" Louis asked, surprised."Apparently. Since I'm here. In his house. In my pajamas.""He tried to call me a few times today. I haven't called him back. I feel stupid now. Hey. Do you mind if I sit? My legs are so tired.”"Oh, okay. No problem."He went to the living room. He took his coat off, threw it on an armchair, then collapsed on the couch. The fire in the hearth started to go out. Harry felt a bit gauche, not really knowing what to do. What was one supposed to do when a beautiful and drunk stranger collapsed on your couch?***Everything is too much for Harry. His exboyfriend, his job, his whole life actually. Flying across the globe to find a quiet place for Christmas holidays is exactly what he needs. Among a warm cottage and snow-covered fields, he doesn't expect to come across Louis, the beautiful stranger that stumbled into his house one night. Love isn't supposed to find a way to his heart, but Christmas has its magic tricks, hasn't it?
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 30
Kudos: 205
Collections: 1D Christmas Fest 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone ! I'm back for the 1D Christmas Fest and I couldn't be happier ! My prompt was "The Holiday movie adaptation", and since I've wanted to write this fic for so loooooong, here we are. I hope you'll love this fic as much as I loved writing it. Some of the dialogues were written based on the original script of the movie. 
> 
> Thanks a lot to my wonderful beta, who did an excellent job at cheering me up and spotting all my terrible mistakes ! I wouldn't have make it trough without you, Aoife !  
> As usual, thanks to my boyfriend, who is the best support.  
> And also a big thank you to Chloe for organizing such an amazing fest !  
> You can find the other fabulous fics in the fest here : https://archiveofourown.org/collections/1dchristmasfest2020
> 
> Enjoy your reading and do not hesitate to leave comments and kudos ! xxx

Harry didn't know what woke him up. Surely a bad dream. His white t-shirt stuck to his chest and the hair at the base of his neck was wet with sweat. He straightened up on his elbows, his eyes slowly getting used to the darkness. A thin line of light went through the bottom of the bedroom's door. The blankets were too heavy on his legs and he kicked them off, angry. Rolling on his side, he fumbled to find the switcher to open the shutters. He winced at the squeaky sound. Soon the room was illuminated by the Californian sun. 

Harry ran a hand through his hair. He could hear some noises in the kitchen and he hoped with all his heart that it was Mary, his maid. He jumped out of the bed, sighing at the cold wooden floor under his feet. He slowly went down the stairs, his heart beating a bit faster. 

As he had feared, he found Ezra in front of the gas cooker, spatula in his hand. Bacon and scrambled eggs were cooking in a pan while the kettle was hissing. His blonde surfer hair was falling over his eyes and he was frowning, too focused on his task. He jumped when Harry slapped his hands on the worktop. 

"I thought I told you to get the fuck out of my house," Harry hissed, his voice too threatening, even to his own ears.

Ezra lifted his head and Harry was tempted for one second to regret his harsh words. But a rictus spread on his lips. Harry wanted to throw boiling water at his face. 

"Darling, I don't wanna go," Ezra said, shrugging. "It might take time, but we'll get over this together."

He served tea, bacon and eggs on a plate, pushing it towards Harry. He came towards Harry and was about to take his hand, but Harry pulled away quickly. 

"I don't wanna get over this with you, Ezra. I want you to leave my house and get out of my life," he said harshly. 

"Harry, you talk like you never make any mistakes," Ezra sighed, turning to him. 

He crossed his arms on his chest and tapped the ground with his heel. Harry noticed that his now ex-boyfriend was wearing one of his shirts and before he would have found it endearing how it was almost too small for him. Before.

"Listen, Harry, I spent days and days telling you I'm sorry. Why can't you just forgive me and move on? Why are you always so dramatic?”

"What did you say? I'm dramatic?" Harry repeated, his voice high-pitched. “You fuck the intern at your office behind my back and I'm dramatic?!”

"It just happened once! It's the dumbest shit I've ever done, Harry, and it won't ever happen again, I promise you."

"I don't give a fuck about your promises, Ezra!"

Behind him, by the window, Harry saw Martin, his gardener, watching them with interest. He looked almost happy. Seeing his cuckold employer arguing with his ex boyfriend was surely a lot of fun. He fled behind the trees when he noticed Harry looking at him. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed in deeply. 

"Ezra, beyond the fact that you are unfaithful, our relationship doesn't satisfy me anymore. And it's been a while. I want to break up with you. I don't want you here anymore.”

Harry watched him open his mouth, looking for words. His features that had been relaxed and confident turned into something hard and cruel.

"Have you never wondered why I cheated on you?" he asked with a little laugh. 

"No, I haven’t and honestly, I don't care," Harry answered, impatient. "Get out now."

"I fucked Basile because he looked at me, he let me be close to him and touch him. You're never here, too busy with your job. Your job, your job, your job! Your restaurant is all that matters! You're an incredible chef, Harry, perhaps the best in California, but that doesn't make you worthy at all. I don't know why you're like this, I don't know why you impose this on yourself, but you don't want to be loved. It's not the others' fault if you are unable to make a relationship work. Look at yourself in the mirror. You are the problem.”

With those harsh words, Ezra turned around and violently slammed the door shut behind him. Gripping the worktop tightly, Harry reached for his cup of tea and sipped it. It didn't help dissolve the tight knot he had in his throat. That little bastard just hit him in the gut. They had been together for six months and Harry had never thought Ezra could be this mean. Harry quickly threw the bacon and eggs into the bin. Ezra had never been a good cook, anyway. 

A hand laid on his arm, making him jump. 

"Mr Styles, is something wrong?" Mary asked gently. "You're not at work, are you sick?"

Harry smiled weakly at the woman who had been taking care of his house for almost five years. Her dark brown hair was tied in a high bun that made her look like a severe English housemaid from the 19th century, which was totally contrasted with a colorful dress and tawdry bracelets. She pushed him away with her hip and picked up a sponge. 

"I already told you, Mary, Zayn and I decided to close the restaurant for the Christmas holiday. Tell me, do you think I'm selfish?" Harry asked, uncertain. 

"Why are you asking me this? Are you anxious?"

"I'm unable to make a relationship work for more than six months. Ezra told me I was the problem."

She began to wash the dishes and Harry grabbed a towel to help her. She tsked and he put the towel back down. She hated when he appropriated her territory, and she told him this frequently. Sometimes he felt like he was living in her house. 

"In my opinion, this Ezra is stupid. He doesn't deserve your heart. You must keep it for your true soulmate."

Harry rolled his eyes and smiled. Mary always told him that one only found true love once in their life. Harry started to believe his true love was really good at hiding. 

***

"We should do this more often, guys. I feel like I'm in paradise."

Harry nodded and stretched his legs out in front of him. Liam was right. There was nothing better than a good hammam with his friends to let the tension leave his shoulders. Stress dissipated through his dilated pores. The smell of eucalyptus helped him breathe with ease. He could've fallen asleep, if Liam hadn't nudged him with his feet. 

"What?” Harry asked, slightly annoyed.

"What's wrong? You haven't said a word since we got here."

"And so what?"

"Don't take us for fools, Harry," Zayn said. "You're usually so talkative. There's something wrong. Just tell us already."

"Why do you always mess around with my life?"

"Because we love hearing your sad stories!" Zayn exclaimed, clapping his hands.

Liam reprimanded him with a kick on his ankle. At least that's what Harry guessed he did with his vision blurred through the steam.

"What Zayn means with his natural kindness is that we know you too well. You're upset, we can feel it. You're going to dwell on it for days, and one night, you'll call us and we'll come and drink too much with you and then you'll end up crying, whinging about not finding the love of your life. So, save our time and tell us what happened with Ezra.”

Harry blinked, a little stunned, and rubbed his neck. He was too hot and he dreamed of a nice cold shower. But he knew that his friends wouldn't leave him alone before he told them everything. He threw his head back against the wall. 

"He cheated on me," he sighed. "He said it was my fault. That I only ever think of the restaurant. That I wasn’t invested in the relationship. That I'm the problem."

There was a heavy silence and Harry could feel his friends sharing a knowing glare. Harry raised an inquiring brow and Liam nudged his leg again.

"He might not be wrong," Zayn said, sitting up straight. "Okay, he's an absolute asshole for cheating on you. But is it the reason why you broke up with him?"

His stare seemed so piercing that Harry blushed. 

"No," he finally admitted. 

"Harry, you are so predictable," Liam whined. "Once again you're going to tell us that it was nice but it couldn't go on forever?"

"But that's the truth!” Harry winced. "I spent some good times with him, we had fun, but I cannot imagine being with him my whole life. I had a lot of affection for him, but I wasn't-"

"In love," Liam and Zayn sighed in unison. 

Harry nodded. His friends knew him too well. 

"You know, Harry, I think that you're building up your own fences. You're scared of not being loved back, having your heart broken and suffering, so you don't leave any chance for your relationships. At the end of a few months, you get bored and you persuade yourself the other feels the same, so you prefer putting an end to the relationship. You enclose yourself in a hard shell to protect yourself, but that's what makes you unhappy."

"Zayn, have you studied psychology recently?"

"He's right, Harry!" Liam exclaimed. "It looks like you refuse to be happy. But you have everything everyone wishes for. You own the most popular restaurant in California, you're incredibly famous on social media, you live in a wonderful villa in the most beautiful neighbourhood in San Francisco, you have a family and friends that support and love you no matter what. Stop running after the love of your life. He'll come when you'll least expect it.”

Zayn nodded and the two of them slowly stroked Harry's shins to prove him their support. Harry knew that they were right. It had been years that he had been jumping from relationship to relationship without meeting anyone he was greatly interested in, hoping to find love. It had never worked. What he wanted was love with a capital L. He wanted to meet a true gentleman, a man that would share his interests and values, but that would be different enough that he could still teach him new things. He wanted what Liam and Zayn had. They had fallen crazy in love the day they had met at the restaurant. Liam had been his best friend since childhood and he had met Zayn during his culinary arts studies. When they had decided to join forces to open La Fine Bouche, Liam was never supposed to be part of the team. And yet, unable to be apart for more than ten minutes, Harry had finally given in and offered him a community manager post. 

He knew that his friends were right. He couldn't keep on hanging on every loser that crossed his path. He had to pull himself together. He didn't want to end up like all the people unable to live by themselves. He was better than that. 

"I need to take care of myself," he declared. "I haven't taken a holiday in awhile."

"It's an opportunity. The restaurant reopens in January. Go for it."

"Where are you going to go?" Liam asked. "It's nearly Christmas. Didn't you plan anything?"

"Mum and Robin are going to visit Gemma in New York. I think I want to be alone. Face to face with myself. They'll understand. I'll keep you updated."

Zayn smiled, nodding, and got up. 

"Come on, guys! Let's take a shower, then let's have a party! We have a breakup to celebrate," Zayn chuckled. 

Harry threw a towel at him, faking annoyance. His friends could get on his nerves sometimes, but he loved them so much. He tried not to think about Ezra, but rather the holiday he was going to take. That's exactly what he needed.


	2. Chapter 2

Lying in bed, a glass of Chardonnay in one hand, it was almost midnight when Harry insisted on finding the flash of inspiration of the century. But the notebook was still blank. It had been several weeks since he had first started thinking of the new menu for the restaurant. Zayn and he used to change the menu four times a year, to respect the seasonality of fresh products, and for the first time in six years, Harry couldn't come up with a good idea. This lack of creativity scared him to the core. Perhaps he wasn't the great chef everyone admired, after all.

He closed his notebook, sighing, and threw it on the floor. He felt so lonely. The king-sized bed was too big and the silence around him too heavy. Sometimes, he wondered why he had invested in this huge villa, with its high ceilings, four floors, eight bedrooms and bathrooms, while he was living alone here most of the time. He wanted to call Ezra, just for one night.

Before he had time to grab his phone and do something so hugely stupid, Harry grabbed his laptop instead and switched it on. His fingertips gently touched the keyboard and he suddenly felt more relaxed. He never thought that the mere idea of a holiday could make him this happy. He helped himself to more wine and started his research. After a few minutes of surveying the websites of luxurious hotels on the Californian coast, he finally understood that it wasn't what he wanted. He had had enough of this fast paced life, made of parties, sparkles and artifices. He sometimes felt like he didn't recognize himself. He wanted a return to the source, to disconnect for this life that seemed to oppress him more and more.

He typed “out of the way holidays” into the search bar and scrolled down the page. He stopped when he saw Homeswitchhome and clicked on the link. He loved a good pun.  _ Switch your house for a few days, weeks or months _ . It piqued his curiosity, so he scrolled a bit further down the page. The principle was simple: stay at someone's house, while they stay at yours, for free. Interesting. Something that would make him go out of his comfort zone. Harry clapped his hands, all excited but mostly drunk. 

He started to think of a destination. The United States? No, he knew it too well. South America? Too close to home. Asia? Maybe too far from home. Why not Europe? He clicked by chance on England, only to see if it was as rainy as all the stereotypes. To his surprise, he found a lot of sunny pictures. But he didn't want something sunny. His eyes were suddenly attracted by a small stone-house, the picture a bit blurry because of snowfalls. Puffin's Nest Cottage, in the Cotswolds. Harry clicked on the ad and was immediately amazed by the warm decoration and the cosy atmosphere.  _ Spend a wonderful holiday in a true British cottage, with its small garden and stone fireplace, near London _ . Harry totally fell under the spell of this beautiful cottage. He hadn't seen snow since he was a child. That's where he wanted to spend his holiday.

But was he ready to exchange his own house? After all, he could come across a psychopath or a squatter, who would destroy the villa without any scruple. Harry looked around him, the pure white walls, the designer furniture, the downy carpets that had cost him a fortune. Everything was impersonal, so cold. It looked like a show house. And actually, nothing was really important to him in his house. All that mattered was his restaurant.

After a slight hesitation, he opened the chat window and tapped a quick message.

**Hey, I'm Harry, I really like your house! Is it still available?**

He helped himself a glass of Chardonnay again and stared at the screen, waiting for an answer. He started to drift off to sleep when the sound of a notification made him jump. He smiled, his vision a bit blurry, and opened the message.

_ Hiya! nice to meet ya, i'm niall! of course it's available! where are ya from? _

**USA. California. San Francisco.**

With that, he sent a few pictures of the villa. He hoped so hard that Niall would agree.

_ San Francisco! WAOUH!!! it's almost a castle! why would you want to switch your house with mine? are ya crazy? _

Harry let out a guffaw in front of his screen. This Niall seemed really nice. Harry emptied his glass and answered.

**Absolutely not. I'm really normal. Healthy. Don't smoke. Single.**

He rolled his eyes, wondering why he shared such things with a total stranger. He didn't want Niall to think he was flirting. Poor boy.

_ I know what you mean. Life's hard sometimes. _

Harry nodded, even if Niall couldn't see him.

**Your house looks idyllic. Exactly what I need.**

_ Thanks. Have you already done that? Exchange your house. _

**Never. You?**

_ Me neither. I love new experiences. I need to take a break too. My job's been too hard. Is tomorrow too early? _

Harry didn't take more than two seconds to answer. He wanted to leave as soon as possible.

**Tomorrow's perfect.**

_ Nice! we have forms to fill out, insurance, etc, do you mind if I call you? _

**Love if you would.**

Harry sent him his number and waited for Niall to call him, a little nervous. They spent more than an hour on the phone, talking about contracts and insurance at first, then more about private details. Niall had a nice Irish accent, he was almost thirty and was on the verge of a burn-out. He needed sun and relaxation. Harry didn't tell him about the restaurant and his fame, just that he was under pressure himself. They agreed to swap for two weeks, starting the next day. 

When he hung up, Harry had sparkles in his eyes and dreams in his head. He hastened to buy his plane ticket and rent a car. Then he sent a message to Liam and Zayn to warn them, and his family as well. He was apprehensive about his mum's reaction, as he wouldn't spend the holidays with them, but she answered with  _ take care of yourself, you deserve it, I love you _ . His family and friends were the best. 

He took his suitcase from under the bed and dragged it to the dressing room. He put his warmest clothes in there: downy sweatshirts, cashmere sweaters, woolen socks. Niall had told him that the weather was horrible and that it had started to snow. He even took a beanie he hadn't worn in years. He hesitated about putting a pack of condoms and lube in his toiletries bag. He shook his head. He was so ridiculous. A lover was the last thing he expected to find in the Cotswolds.


	3. Chapter 3

The excitement of the day before was a distant memory. His suitcase in one hand, his ticket in the other, in the line to get onto the plane, Hary felt like he was about to do a fucking stupid thing. In his pocket, his phone wouldn’t stop ringing.

_ babe i miss u _

_ please call me _

_ harry, i'm serious, i just wanna talk to you _

_ you know how much i love you _

He took his phone out of his pocket and switched it off. What he was sure about is that he didn't reciprocate the feelings Ezra had for him. A nice stewardess looked at his ticket and he followed the direction she pointed him in. He stored his suitcase and sat down in his seat, C12. He cracked his fingers and closed his eyes. He sighed softly when the plane took off. He was stuck to his seat and winced at the unpleasant feeling. The plane climbed in the sky and Harry looked through the porthole. He watched for the last time the colorful landscape of San Francisco. He couldn't turn back now.

The flight was more than ten hours long. Harry had to keep himself busy. He stood up and took his notebook from his suitcase. The pages were still blank. He had to organize his ideas. It was the only way to find inspiration again. 

He started to make a list of all the fruits and vegetables available in winter. He tried to remember the numerous classes he had taken a few years earlier. January was the season of squash and citrus fruits: carrots, parsnips, leeks, potatoes, lemons, tangerines, oranges. As for fish, he could find sea bass, scallops, cod. 

He sank more into his seat, nibbling his pen. It was a good start. What could he do with that? Cream of carrots and cumin soup? Too basic. Preserved duck with orange? Lacked originality. Roasted apples with caramel? Harry didn't even like apples. Fuck. He closed his notebook. Nothing was working. He was helpless. He could feel the stress seizing him. He had less than a month to write his menu. And he was going on holiday. What had he been thinking?

He straightened his legs in front of him and switched the tablet on. He plugged in his earphones, put them in his ears and scrolled down the list of movies. A steward came to give him a glass of champagne and asked if he wanted to eat something. He shook his head. He finally decided to watch Gremlins. It was the best Christmas movie to cheer him up. He hoped it would work just as well this time.

***

It was almost night-time and there was nobody on the road. It was a blessing, since Harry had trouble driving on the other side of the road. He almost drove into the ditch. The murmur of the radio and the squeaking sound of the windshield wipers filled the silence in the car. The snow had been falling slowly since he had landed in London. 

He was getting closer to Northleach. It was hard to see through the fog. His leg began to cramp from pressing the clutch pedal and the GPS indicated forty-five minutes left.

Harry was glad the Mini he had rented had snow tyres; the road was more and more empty, narrow and covered with snow. He turned the heating up, his hands were too cold. He yawned, eyelids heavy.

The GPS finally told him to turn left. Harry wouldn't even call it a road, but a narrow muddy path. He drove slowly, slight fear twisting his gut. It looked like it was straight out of a fucking horror movie. Maybe Niall really was a psychopath, and instead of a nice cottage, Harry was going to find the barn of horror, where he would be cut into pieces and buried. He shook his head, chuckling. The jet lag was getting to him.

Harry hoped with all his heart not to come across another car. Around him, there was nothing but trees and fields covered with snow. He was already amazed by the landscape.

“You have arrived at your destination,” the GPS said. He parked in front of the garage and lifted his gaze towards the cottage. The small building was the same as the pictures Harry had seen, but even better. Old grey stones, green shutters, a cute English garden. A small, simple and elegant country house. He hurried out of the car, glad to finally stretch his legs. His back cracked loudly. The snow was falling faster now and it was windy. Harry already had stiff fingers and the tip of his nose was frozen. He quickly opened the trunk and grabbed his suitcase.

He took the key Niall had hidden under the snow-covered rug. When he opened the door, Harry was welcomed by a sweet warmth and the slight smell of humidity. His eyes sparkled as he discovered the cosy decoration, with wooden beams and red bricks. On his right, there was a small kitchen with an old gas stove and a little wooden table. On his left, there was a living room with beige sofas, a bookshelf, and a nice fireplace.

He climbed up the stairs, his heavy suitcase in hand. He almost squealed in delight when he discovered the bedroom. White paneled walls, dark wooden floor, red curtains, a tartan armchair, and a TV on an old chest of drawers. The queen-sized bed was covered with a white fluffy blanket. He put his suitcase down and went into the small ensuite bathroom. The same wooden floor, an old claw-foot bathtub, a rococo sink. There was a window from which he could see the snowy fields. After the tiring day he had, Harry wanted nothing more than to relax in a hot bath. He had even brought a Twilight bath bomb from Lush, the one that had a nice soothing lavender fragrance.

But first, he had to do the shopping. It was night but it only took him a few minutes to drive into town. A few streetlamps slightly lit the main street. Some people were strolling, braving the cold, tight scarves around their necks. 

***

Harry parked and got out of the car, shivering. There was a pub, a post office, a bookshop, a butcher's shop, and a small restaurant that seemed to be closed. He quickly walked to the grocery store. It was a really small shop. Kitsch Christmas songs were playing. He took a basket and filled it with several bottles of wine, French baguettes, local cheese, smoked salmon and Christmas puddings. When he came to the checkout, the woman behind the cash register looked at him with a cheeky smile.

"Someone's having a party tonight," she said, ringing in his goods.

"That's the plan, yeah," Harry chuckled.

He paid, wished the cashier a good evening and left in the freezing night.

***

After putting his clothes in the dresser, taking a hot bath and drinking half of his wine straight from the bottle, Harry was lying in bed in his pajamas and soft socks, binge watching some reality show on the TV. He had everything he needed to relax and enjoy the holiday he had waited for for so long.

But he wasn’t enjoying anything.

He was bored.

He got out of the bed, took his bottle of wine and went down the stairs. He tried to start a fire, using up five matches before succeeding. He turned around and turned the speakers on and launched an All Out 00’s playlist. The alcohol was running fast in his blood and he finished the bottle in one quick go. Soon, he was singing at the top of his lungs, In Too Deep by Sum41. He danced as if he were crazy, jumping on the sofa. Breathless, cheeks burning, he put a shaky hand on his heart that was beating too fast. He went to the kitchen and opened another bottle of wine.

He was still bored.

He went back to the living room, looking at the bookshelf. There were so many books. He grabbed a random one.  _ Dance on my Grave _ by Aidan Chambers. He lay down on the couch and began to read. But after only a few minutes, he put the book back on his tummy. This holiday wasn’t what he had thought it would be. His mind was foggy with thoughts he didn't want to care about. He had to create the new menu. He might need to call Ezra. Maybe listen to his explanations. See if it mattered.

Harry had never felt so lonely. The happiness brought by the alcohol slowly left his body, giving way to melancholy. He knew that he would never find what he was looking for here. Maybe because he didn't even know what he was looking for. He went up to the bedroom, pulled his suitcase from under the bed and put all his clothes into it. He tapped away at his phone for a few minutes, then put it back on the bedside table. He slipped into the bed, brought his knees against his chest, but he couldn't sleep.

The next day, in the afternoon, he’d take a flight back to San Francisco. 


	4. Chapter 4

It was almost two in the morning, but Harry couldn’t sleep and kept on turning around in his bed. He sighed loudly, rolling on his back. He closed his eyes again, trying so hard to drift to sleep. It could have worked, if a loud knock on the front door hadn't made him jump in fear. He kicked the blankets off his legs and ran down the stairs. He wasn’t being careful and violently hit his forehead on the beam. He didn't even have time to whine, because there was another loud knock on the door.

"Who's there?" Harry asked, heart beating fast.

"For fuck's sake, it's me! Open the door, I'm freezing!"

"Who are you?" Harry repeated with a little more self confidence.

At the risk of getting put on a spit, he was ready not to react. He could fight. At least that's what he thought.

"Niall, it's Louis! Open the fucking door or I'll pee in your flower pot!"

So, Harry obliged. There was a man standing on the threshold. About his age, a little shorter than him, brunette. Just one glance and Harry could feel his knees give out. It felt like the man's blue eyes could see straight into his soul. But he looked totally lost.

"You're not Niall," the man said, as crazed as he was drunk.

"No, I'm not."

"Oh. I'm sorry. For my vulgarity. I wasn't expecting-"

"Neither was I," Harry interrupted him.

"Nevermind. Can I just-"

"Oh. Yeah. You need- The toilets. Of course."

The man quickly came into the hall, closing the door behind him. He walked towards the toilets, then turned around. He stretched his hand out and it took Harry a few seconds to understand he wanted to shake his hand. His fingers were freezing.

"Louis Tomlinson," he introduced himself. "Niall's best friend."

"Harry Styles."

"Harry Styles? You have style."

He chuckled at his own pun, then disappeared behind the bathroom door. Harry could hear him unbuckle his belt and open his zipper. He saw his reflection in the mirror and quickly ran a hand through his hair. He looked really stupid in his old pajamas and high socks. He heard the toilet flush and Louis reappeared. God, he was prettier than Harry had realized. The tip of his nose was pink and he wasn't shaved. He hadn't closed his trousers' zipper.

"Where's Niall?" Louis asked.

"He didn't tell you?"

"What?"

"He's in San Francisco. In my house. For the holidays. We switched our houses."

"What? People really do that?" Louis asked, surprised.

"Apparently. Since I'm here. In his house. In my pajamas."

"He tried to call me a few times today. I haven't called him back. I feel stupid now. Hey. Do you mind if I sit? My legs are so tired.”

"Oh, okay. No problem."

He went to the living room. He took his coat off, threw it on an armchair, then collapsed on the couch. The fire in the hearth started to go out. Harry felt a bit gauche, not really knowing what to do. What was one supposed to do when a beautiful and drunk stranger collapsed on your couch?

"I'm so sorry to bother you," Louis apologized suddenly. "I had no idea Niall had left the town. My best friend is the bestest. When - and I can promise you it's rare - I go out in town and get really drunk at the pub, he lets me sleep on his couch. That's quite pathetic. But that's it. So, how's this exchange going? I mean, until I showed up and ruined your night."

He smiled, and his eyes were so blue and piercing that Harry had to lean against the wall. The floor was cold under his feet, despite his thick socks.

"Not great, actually," he admitted, wincing. "I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh. And when did you get here?"

"Hum- 5pm. Today."

"Oh, well. We made a great impression on you, didn't we?" Louis chuckled.

He pulled his sweater's sleeves over his fingers and this simple gesture only made him look even frailer than he was in reality. Harry's heart was still beating fast in his chest.

"Oh, no, it's not that!" Harry exclaimed. “It's just- I wasn't feeling myself the last few days and I left without thinking about it. I never do that. It's not me. I'm wondering what I'm doing here. So I thought it'd be better if I just go back home. Do you want something to drink? Water? Tea? Wine, maybe?”

"Wine would be perfect. But only if you drink some with me."

Harry nodded and went to the kitchen to grab the remaining bottle of wine and two glasses. He went back to the living room and helped Louis to a glass of wine.

"Thank you. I'm sorry but I don't remember your name."

"Harry."

Harry sat beside Louis, his back against the arm of the couch. He sat with his legs under his bum, took a swig of his wine and looked at Louis. He had messy hair that fell before his eyes and Harry wanted to run his fingers through it.

"Yeah. Harry Styles. A really nice name. It suits you."

"How's that?"

"It's really cute. Just like you."

Harry blushed. Louis had his lips closed around the rim of his glass and his eyes had a cheeky glint to them. Even if he was drunk, Harry understood at once that he was flirting. He didn't mind at all.

"Thank you," Harry said. "You're nice."

"Are you married?"

"Me? No, absolutely not!" Harry exclaimed, chuckling.

He surely had too many drinks tonight. Soon he felt a nice warmth spread in his body and his head spun a little.

"That makes two of us," Louis replied, nodding.

Harry wasn't sure where this conversation could lead them. What he knew was that he shouldn't feel so at ease with a total stranger, even as beautiful as Louis was. The latter leaned forward and grabbed his ankle, the simple gesture making him shiver.

"Do you mind if I stay tonight?" Louis asked, suddenly more serious. "I'll leave before you wake up. I promise you'll never see me again after."

"No worries, it's okay, let me grab you a blanket."

"It's in the chest of drawers. On your right."

Harry stood up, took a blanket and a pillow and gave them to Louis.

"Thank you very much. Tell me, why are you not feeling yourself these days? Sorry, I'm just curious."

Harry sat beside Louis again, this time closer. Their thighs were almost pressed against one another. Harry sighed loudly.

"Why? Well, I broke up with my boyfriend and I told myself it would be nice to spend the holidays far from home, to have a break and relax, but I just realized I've never felt so alone in my entire life. That's it. Story of my life. Bet you're glad you knocked on the door," he chuckled.

"I am, actually.”

Harry blushed again. He fiddled with the hem of his sweater. He didn't even know why he confessed so much. Surely because Louis radiates the softness Harry needed.

"Well, sorry to bother you with this," he breathed out. "Goodnight, Louis."

"Have sweet dreams, Harry."

Louis suddenly surged forward and kissed him. A simple press of his mouth against Harry's. Harry moved back, surprised. Louis was grinning and his eyes were shining. Harry turned a bit more toward him and pressed his hand against his thigh.

"Can you do it again?" he asked.

He barely had time to finish his sentence before Louis kissed him again. A little longer this time. His lips were warm and soft. Harry wanted him to keep on going.

"Was it bad?" Louis asked, sounding anxious.

"No, not at all! It's really good, it's just-"

Louis didn't let him finish and kissed him, harder. Harry was in the middle of an existential crisis, had just left everything he knew to take a holiday in the middle of nowhere, halfway around the world, and Louis was so handsome, clearly drunk and he surely wouldn't remember this deviation. It's for all these reasons that Harry slipped his tongue between his lips. And it seemed like they were meant to kiss. Harry didn't feel the confusion one might feel when they kiss someone – a stranger - for the first time. They had a good angle, good pressure, a good rhythm. It was perfect. More than perfect. Harry had never kissed someone like that. Louis tasted like wine and a stronger alcohol that Harry couldn't decipher. 

He quickly felt his blood running down to his crotch. Louis moaned softly and his hands grabbed Harry's hips, pulling him against him. So Harry straddled his lap. Louis' cold fingers slipped under his sweater and caressed his lower back. Harry pulled back, breathless.

"I wanna have sex with you."

Harry heard himself and realized he was perhaps drunker than Louis was. He had never been so debauched. Louis laughed, throwing his head back, and Harry took the opportunity to kiss his neck. His skin was soft and he smelled like baby powder. Harry could feel his breath hitch as Louis' nails scratched his back.

"Isn't it weird to have sex with a total stranger?" Louis asked.

There was insolence in his voice and Harry softly bit his skin to shut him up. Louis suddenly lifted his hips up. Under his bum, Harry could feel that his offer interested Louis more than he would like to admit.

"Listen, Louis, I've never been like that, but we drank too much and- we won't see each other again, which makes this all the more exciting. And you're really sexy. And you smell good.”

"Harry, you're becoming one of the most interesting men I've ever met."

Harry lifted his head to look at him; his eyes were dark with desire. Louis ran his hand through Harry's hair and bent his head, sliding his tongue into his open mouth. Harry pressed his hips down on him. He hadn't fucked anyone in awhile, too taken by the restaurant, and he could feel the excitement rising too fast.

"Do you have- you know. Condoms and lube?" Louis asked, breathless.

"Don't move, I'm gonna get that!"

Harry stood up and tugged at his pajama pants, conscious he was already too hard. He might have felt embarrassed, but the burning look Louis gave made run towards the stairs. He climbed the stairs four at a time and went directly to the bathroom. He fumbled around in his toiletries bag, looking for condoms and lube, then remembered he left them in San Francisco. For fuck's sake. He went to the bedroom and turned his suitcase inside out, whining in frustration when he found nothing. He couldn't miss such an opportunity because he hadn’t been prudent. He looked around him, helpless. Then he saw the bedside table. He quickly opened the drawer and almost shouted in relief when he saw a pack of condoms. He took a handful of them and went back to the living room.

"Do you think Niall would-"

He stopped mid-sentence. Louis was lying on the couch, looking deeply asleep. His mouth was half-open and he was snoring softly. Harry was sure he didn't take that long. Harry put the condoms on the coffee table, grabbed the blanket and put it on Louis. He bent to kiss his cheek. He had never been this hard in his whole life, and yet, going back to the bedroom to have some sleep, he couldn't help but smile like a fool. Perhaps the Cotswolds weren’t so boring after all.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Harry woke up with a headache and a knot in his stomach. He glanced at his phone. It was almost 11am. He stood up and pulled a thick sweater on to soothe the goosebumps on his arms. He could hear noises in the kitchen. Louis was still here. The night before wasn't a dream then.

He went down the stairs and into the kitchen. He found Louis rumbling in the cupboards. The kettle was whistling behind him. He got out two mugs and a bowl of sugar. His thin figure was hidden by a large woolen sweater. A tight pair of jeans squeezed his thighs and bum. Fuck, he was so gorgeous. How did Harry not realize how perfect his little body was the day before? Harry looked away, scared of getting a boner right there in the kitchen. Louis jumped when he cleared his throat.

"Oh. I didn't hear you," Louis smiled. "Did you sleep well?"

Harry nodded and went around the table. Louis helped him with a cup of hot tea. His hair was messy, a bit greasy and he had a crease from his pillow on his cheek. He was as uneasy as Harry was. Harry went to the window. The sun was shining, making the snow-covered garden glow. It was splendid.

"Listen, Harry, I'm so sorry, I told you I'd leave before you woke up and-"

"It's okay," Harry reassured him, turning towards him. "I don't mind."

"It's just that-"

"It's okay, Louis. Nothing to worry about. Alright?”

"Okay-"

"It was really nice meeting you," Harry admitted a bit too fast.

"Definitely."

Harry smiled and took a swig of his tea. The memories of the night before muddled his mind. Louis' lips on his, the taste of wine on his tongue, his cold fingers on his skin. He shivered.

"Harry, we didn't have sex, did we?"

Harry chuckled at his uncertainty. He followed his gaze towards the condoms he had left on the coffee table.

"No, we didn't have sex, Louis. You drank too much."

"Thank God," Louis sighed.

Harry must have looked really hurt because Louis quickly kept going.

"No, no, no, Harry! That's not what I meant! It's just that yesterday night is a bit blurry and it would've been a shame if I didn't remember- well. You know."

"Yeah. I know."

"But I remember that you kissed me and it was really good."

Harry blushed. Louis looked like he was the kind of person to say exactly what he thought, without any filter. He quite liked that. A phone rang, making him jump out of his reverie. Instinctively, he took it, before realizing it was Louis'. “Lottie” it said.

"Sorry," he apologized, handing Louis his phone.

"I'll call her back," Louis answered, shrugging.

There was a moment of silence, both of them sipping their tea. Then, Louis glanced at his watch and sighed.

"I have to go, Harry. I know you said things were kinda complicated for you, and I have rather enormous issues of my own and-"

"Hey. You don't have to do this. It was fun yesterday. But we barely know each other, so-"

"I just want to be sure you're alright. You wouldn't want to-"

"Louis, really I'm fine," Harry chuckled, not sure where the conversation would lead them. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna fall in love with you."

"Okay. Nicely put. Thank you."

"I know how I am. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I don't want to get involved with anyone new. I don't even know why I'm telling you this," Harry winced.

"Well, as I've already told you, you're the most interesting man I've ever met."

"I'm going to try and see that as a compliment."

"You should."

Louis put his coat on and clutched the collar. Strangely, Harry didn't want him to leave. They could start a fire, sit on the couch, drink a hot cocoa while talking about anything and everything. Louis was also the most interesting man he had ever met.

Louis suddenly got closer and took Harry's hand.

"I know you're leaving today, but if your flight is cancelled, or if you change your mind, I'm meeting some friends at the pub in town tonight. And if not - then - well. You're really cute."

"So are you," Harry smiled, blushing.

Louis leaned towards him and kissed his cheek before leaving. Harry found himself with his arms dangling at his sides, more lonely than ever. He went upstairs, got dressed quickly, took his suitcase and left.

***

Arriving at Heathrow, Harry parked his car in front of the car rental agency. He had less than two hours before his flight. He took the insurance forms out of the glove compartment. He was about to get out of the car, but something held him back. Sighing, he closed the door and finally resigned to call Liam. His best friend picked up on the second ring.

"Hey, Haz! How are you? We were waiting for some news! Zayn! Zayn! Come here, Harry's on the phone! I'm gonna put you on speaker, Haz, come on, we're listening! Tell us everything!"

Harry rolled his eyes at his best friend's excitement. He bit his lip, a bit anxious. He took a deep breath in before saying anything.

"I'm going home. I feel uneasy here. Do you mind if I stay over at yours for the holidays? I can't kick Niall out of my house. It wouldn't be fair.”

There was a moment of silence and Harry could easily guess the faces they were making. He winced, drumming his fingers on the wheel.

"What happened?" Zayn asked, sounding disappointed. “You were so happy to go on holiday!”

"I was but- it's freezing outside, everything is small and-"

He thought about Louis, the way he had kissed him and how his hands had squeezed his hips. He shivered.

"I don't know, I just think it's better if I go home," he finished.

"Darling, you know you're always welcome at home," Zayn said in a soft voice. "But you  _ need _ this holiday."

"Zayn's right, Harry. You've been working non-stop for years. You're going to burn out. Relax, enjoy your time to rest."

"You really should stay. You'll regret coming back this early."

Harry would have prefered if they had begged him to spend the Christmas holiday with them. But in reality, they had just confirmed what he had known since he left the cottage in the morning. He would regret leaving England. It would have been different if he hadn't met Louis. But now he couldn't stop thinking about him. He was pulling him in like a magnet. He wanted to discover what hid behind his beautiful blue eyes. It's not like he was going to fall in love anyway.

"You're right," he declared. "I'm staying. At least for a few days."

Harry promised them to get in touch, wished them happy holidays and hung up. He put the insurance forms back in the glove compartment, then programmed the GPS to Northleach.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry had never thought there could be so many people in the pub of such a tiny town. It looked like all the villagers had decided to meet here tonight. Sat at the bar, a dry martini in his hand, Harry was focused on the door. His heart skipped a beat every time the bell rang. He had trouble enjoying the warm atmosphere around him; the smell of old wood, the too loud music, the bursts of laughter, the banging of pool balls. 

Harry only dreamed about one thing: that Louis finally crossed through that fucking door. He'd been waiting for forty-five minutes now. He had a little bubble of anxiety at the pit of his stomach. He drummed his fingers on the bar. Perhaps Louis wouldn't come. Perhaps he had forgotten. Perhaps he had something else to do. Perhaps he had a date somewhere else. As his whole brain was turning into knots, the bell rang and Harry turned his head so fast towards the door that he could have broken his neck.

There he was, hands tucked in the pockets of his big fluffy coat, a cap on his head, cheeks and nose pink from the cold. Louis scanned the room, frowning, but his gaze wasn't in Harry's direction. He was about to wave to him, but Louis smiled when he saw his group of friends settled at a table. Harry watched him take off his coat, kiss each of his friends on their cheek, and then, when he lifted his head, his eyes fell on him. His face lit up and he wove around all the bodies of the other pub-goers to join him.

"Hey, Harry!" he exclaimed. "I never thought you'd stay! What changed your mind?"

_ You _ . But Harry couldn't say that out loud, and it didn't matter because Louis didn't wait for an answer, taking his hand. The tips of his fingers were cold against his palm. Harry quickly followed him and soon he was confronted by three unknown faces that looked at him with avid interest.

"Guys, let me introduce you to Harry," Louis said. "He's staying at Niall's for the holidays. You know, the exchange. Harry, this is Perrie, Nick and Ed. My closest friends."

He pressed a hand to Harry's lower back to guide him towards the table. Perrie, a young woman with blonde hair and perfectly manicured nails, turned to him with a bright smile.

"Nice to meet you, Harry. Are you having a good time in England?"

"Well, I didn't do much since I landed yesterday, but it seems nice. Different from what I’m used to."

"Where do you live?" Nick, a good-looking man with dark hair, asked. "You've got a lovely accent."

"I live in California. San Francisco."

They all whistled in admiration, as usual, and Harry truly didn't understand why it pleased people so much. Ed, whose arms were covered with colorful tattoos, pushed a pint of beer towards him.

"How did you meet Louis?"

Harry blushed, caught off guard, and under the table, Louis' foot brushed his.

"Harry was kind enough to let me sleep on his couch yesterday," he answered, taking a swig of his beer. "I was drunk."

Nobody asked any more questions and they returned to their conversation. Yet, Louis' foot pressed a bit more against his. Harry took a sip of his beer to clear the memories of Louis' mouth against his. He really didn't want to get hard in front of everyone.

He listened to Louis' friends' stories, a little absent-mindedly. Perrie's new responsibilities with her web designer job, the hassle of Nick's moving houses, Ed’s dad-to-be status. Louis didn't talk much, nodding and laughing every now and then. Harry could hardly take his eyes off Louis, the hairs on his cheeks, his fine hands, the tattoos he could decipher under his grey woolen sweater. Harry was sure he had never felt this way before. Was it what people called love at first sight? To have the mind and the body in turmoil? To believe in divine will above all? What was the probability of their meeting? Harry had never believed in fate, but now, as his heart rate increased as Louis slid his leg between his, he started to believe in it. And it terrified him. He couldn't fall in love with the first stranger he came across in England, more than 3100 miles from home. It was crazy.

Maybe it was the two dry martinis and the pint of beer he had just drunk, but he felt so good. It'd been a while. It was nice being surrounded by people he didn't know, in anonymity. Here, he was just Harry, the little American come to spend his Christmas holidays in a remote village in England. Not Harry Styles, famous chef in San Francisco, star on the internet. It was nice walking around without being harassed for an autograph, a selfie or even cooking advice. He had never understood why people worshipped him.

Soon Louis' friends left, pretexting tiredness and a working day the next day. Harry found himself confronted with Louis, whose eyes were dark, a vacuous smile on his lips, cheeks rosy. He had drunk a bit too much.

"Do you wanna go home?" he asked, pouting.

Harry shook his head and watched him stand up, staggering a little. He stretched his hand out, Harry took it. Louis dragged him to the pool table.

"Let's play," he said.

Harry winced, slightly anxious at the idea of showing his mediocrity. He was about to decline the offer, but Louis took a cue stick and handed it to him. Then he set up the pool balls.

"Louis, I'm not-"

"I'm gonna teach you. You'll see, it's not as hard as it seems. Come here."

Harry did as told, getting around the table.

"You put the stick between your thumb and your index finger," Louis explained, placing the white ball in front of him. "Spread your legs."

Harry wanted to laugh, but Louis was so serious he contained himself. Taking a deep breath, he stood a little straighter with his legs spread and waited for more instructions.

"Now you have to break. Make a sharp stroke. The stick needs to stay straight. Come on, slide it between your fingers."

Harry thought Louis was just going to watch him, but he softly grabbed his arm. It's not his cold fingers that turned him on, but his hot breath against his neck.

"You need to be serious, dynamic, and strategic," he whispered.

"I'm none of those," Harry whispered back.

"Be nice and trust me. Come on."

His bossy tone mixed with his softness sent a discharge of desire running down Harry's spine. Harry focused as much as possible, slid the stick between his fingers and took his shot, hard. The balls crashed and scattered across the table.

"Congrats!" Louis exclaimed, straightening. "You understood how it works! Now, I'm gonna teach you how to aim. Look."

He took the cue stick from Harry's hand and leaned across the table. Harry watched him. Louis looked cute all focused and frowning. Harry really wanted to watch his game, but his eyes swerved from his shoulders to the curve of his back. He swallowed hard, suddenly getting hotter. He had never wanted someone this much. The alcohol in his blood wasn't helping him. He leaned against the table and shook his head when Louis handed him the cue stick.

"What's wrong?" Louis asked, uncertain.

"I think I wanna go home."

Louis' smile dropped and he bent his head, stepping back.

"Oh. Well. Alright."

"I wanna go home with you," Harry whispered, grabbing his wrist. “If that's what you want, too."

Louis' eyes were shining again and he nodded happily. Quickly, they put the cue stick back on the rack and put the balls away, put their coats on and left in the dark night.

"Where are you parked?" Louis asked, slightly breathless.

"I drank too, I can't drive," Harry admitted, fearing that it would be the end of the night.

"Give me the keys."

Harry gave him the keys, wondering if Louis could drive, then remembered he only saw him drink one beer. They walked to the car and, sitting in the passenger seat, Harry slid his hands between his thighs to warm them. Louis started the engine and turned around on the snow-covered road. Neither of them were talking, but the silence wasn’t even awkward. Harry found it quite strange to be so at ease with a stranger. Harry observed the side of his face, his cute little ears, the angle of his jaw, the tip of his nose. There was a bit of skin exposed between the collar of his sweater and his scarf, and Harry wanted to bite it.

"I was afraid you wouldn't stay," Louis admitted with a soft laugh.

"Why’s that?" Harry asked with the same tone.

"Well, I really liked what we did yesterday and- I don't know. I feel like meeting you was a beautiful happenstance."

"Do you say this to every man staying at your best friend's cottage?" Harry chuckled, turning the heater up.

Louis bursted out in laughter, which made Harry smile, blissfully happy. He could have listened to him laugh for hours.

"At the risk of surprising you, you're the first man I ever met in these conditions."

They arrived at the cottage and Louis parked the car in front of the garage. They got out of the car and Harry followed him to the front door. Louis didn't waste time to push him against the door, hands on his hips. Snowflakes were falling in his hair and a cloud left his mouth when he breathed out. He looked up and chuckled.

"Look, it's a sign."

Harry followed his gaze and saw branches of mistletoe hung above the door.

"Don't you think taking you home with me was a better sign?" he chuckled.

Louis kissed him, leaning his whole weight on him. Harry melted into the touch, slipping his hands on his lower back. He wanted to slip them under his sweater. Harry stepped back, already breathless.

"Let's get inside, I'm freezing," he winced.

They took a few minutes to unlock the door, fighting against darkness and the urge to kiss. They took their snow-covered shoes off and Harry ran up the stairs, Louis following behind, chuckling. Harry switched the bedside lamp on and the bedroom was lit in a soft glow, making the atmosphere more intimate. Almost romantic. Louis was standing there, arms down by his sides, looking blissfully happy.

"Louis?"

And then, everything quickened. Louis threw himself in Harry's arms, their bodies pressed together, lips against lips, cold fingers against hot skin. Time seemed to have stopped.

Harry tried to step back to catch his breath, but Louis flattened his hand on his neck to hold him in place. Louis nibbled his lip to make him open his mouth and he obeyed immediately. Unlike their kisses the night before, Louis didn't taste like red wine, but the bitter taste of hops. Harry didn't know what he preferred; all he knew was that he didn't want Louis to stop. Louis softly pushed him towards the bed until Harry sat down. Louis stepped back, panting, lips swollen and wet with saliva.

"I've dreamed of sucking you off all day," he admitted, looking him right in the eyes.

Fuck. Harry had never met such a blunt man. And God, Harry liked it so much. Maybe even more than his offer. Louis kissed him again, tongue licking into his mouth. He straddled Harry's lap, his fingers gripping the fingers at the base of his neck, Harry's hands on his waist to hold him. Louis caressed his jaw, his neck, his collarbones. His hand stroked down his back, tugging at his sweater. Harry lifted his arms above his head and Louis took it off. Harry shivered at the sudden cold.

Louis moved his hips forward, making Harry moan. His hands left Louis' waist to get on the bulge in front of Louis' jeans. But he pushed it away and Harry looked at him with questioning eyes.

One look and he understood immediately. Louis was in charge.

Louis stood up and pushed at Harry's shoulder to lay him down. Harry obliged, feverish. He knew exactly what Louis was about to do and he shook with apprehension. And he knew that Louis knew because of the cheeky smile on his lips.

Louis climbed back on the bed and Harry lifted his head to kiss him, but Louis liked to tease him. His fingers brushed against his tummy, his chest, his collarbones, his lips, and Harry sighed, fighting to keep his eyes open. Louis' lips hovered above Harry's and Harry quivered at the feeling of his hot breath on his skin. He innocently kissed his mouth before leaning to nibble on his neck. Harry moaned, gripping the sheets. Louis licked the purple lovebite he just made. He kept on with this little game on his collarbones. Satisfied with his lovebites, Louis lifted his head. His eyes were dark, his mouth half-open, the tip of his tongue stuck between his teeth. Harry's cock twitched at the sight.

As if he was reading his mind, Louis put his hand on the bulge that distorted his jeans, and Harry's breath was caught in his throat when Louis popped the button and the fly opened. He slipped his hand between his underwear and jeans, making Harry sigh with excitement, while Louis' free hand brushed over the tattoos on his chest.

"They're amazing," Louis whispered. "You're wonderful."

He stopped and Harry grunted in frustration. His complaint disappeared as soon as Louis kissed him deeply. He slightly tugged his jeans and boxers along his legs. Harry was cold and could feel the hairs bristle on his skin. Louis looked at him, his eyes running over his body and Harry couldn't help but blush. His cock was painfully hard on his stomach. Louis grinned and ran his fingers through his pubic hair. Harry moaned, pleasure rushing in his thighs. The feeling was totally new and a bit confusing.

"Fuck, Louis," he breathed out, heart beating fast.

"What?” Louis asked, grinning more.

"Can you- do it again, please."

Louis obliged, tugging a bit harsher this time. Harry's stomach contracted with pleasure and his back arched. Louis just made him discover a new kink he had never thought he would love and he was more than ready to let him do whatever he wanted to him. And they might be connected telepathically, because Louis stood up. Harry watched him take his sweater off, then his jeans and underwear. He admired how carefree he was, getting naked in front of him without modesty. And then he admired his toned chest, his muscular thighs, his soft stomach. He was a real vision.

"You're a real vision," he breathed out.

Louis chuckled and climbed back on the bed, leaning in to kiss him sweetly.

"You should see yourself, darling," he whispered against Harry's mouth. " _ You _ are a real vision."

Harry chuckled, but turned into a moaning mess when Louis dragged his mouth from his chest to his lower stomach. Harry squirmed with desire. Louis nibbled his hip bones, kissed around his crotch, sucked the inside of his thighs. But his mouth wasn't going where Harry wanted it the most.

"Louis, please," he sighed.

Louis laughed. Harry couldn't be blamed; he had never been patient. Louis' tongue slid between his lips and he closed his eyes when he licked the tip of Harry's cock. His mouth closed around the tip and slowly went down the shaft. He hollowed his cheeks and went back up, his tongue running along the slit. Harry threw his head back, running his fingers through Louis' hair. Louis massaged his balls and Harry moaned loudly, his fingers twitching in Louis' hair. He lowered his gaze to those red and tight lips wrapped around his cock, shining with saliva. Louis looked at him through his lashes, his eyes dark with desire. Harry pressed his thumb to the corner of his mouth.

"Fuck, Louis-"

Louis closed his eyes again and quickened his movements, making Harry moan louder. His head fell back on the pillow and he gripped the sheets instead of Louis' hair, scared to hurt him. Harry had never really liked foreplay, always thinking it was too much and too personal. But with Louis, this intimacy was driving him crazy. He could've stayed with his cock in Louis' mouth for hours. He prayed that it would never end. But his cock didn't agree. He could feel it twitch under Louis' expert lips.

"Louis, darling, stop," he pleaded, tugging his hair to make him raise his head. "I don't wanna come like this."

Louis obliged, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His pupils were dilated and his hair was stuck to his forehead. Harry's stomach contracted with something that wasn't desire. It was more than that and it terrified Harry to the core.

"How do you wanna come, then?” Louis asked with a cheeky smile.

"Do you mind- like- I mean- fucking me?" Harry stammered, blushing.

It'd been a while since he let someone top. He didn't even let Ezra do it the whole time they were together. Being a bottom didn't let him have the control he needed. He was obsessive, a real tyrant. In his professional life, but also in his private life. He didn't understand how Louis succeeded in getting his guard down. He had never wanted to be fucked this much. He wanted everything Louis was willing to give. Louis climbed back to him and kissed his mouth.

"No, Harry," he chuckled against his lips. "I really don't mind fucking you."

Harry chuckled in turn and Louis kissed him again, deeply this time.

"Turn around," he whispered.

Harry lied on his stomach, hugging a pillow in his arms. It smelled good, a scent of lavender. The mattress sagged and Harry guessed Louis had knelt between his legs. He blushed. He didn't know where this modesty came from. Well, he had an idea, but it didn't please him. It was not just a one-night stand where the only aim was pleasure, without sentiment constraint. Louis' fingers were soft on his skin, sliding from his ankle to the top of his thigh. Harry shivered when Louis kissed his lower back. Harry heard him rummage around the bedside table and popped a bottle open. Harry tensed. Louis leaned above him, his hot body sending shivers on his skin. He sweetly kissed his neck.

"We don't need to do this if you don't want to," he whispered, his breath tickling him.

Harry took a deep breath to soothe his tensed muscles. He was ridiculous.

"I really want to," he answered, his voice muffled by the pillow. “It just- it's been a while. Be gentle, please."

"Of course. Tell me if you want me to stop. I'm gonna take care of you."

With that, a cold and wet finger made its way between his cheeks, the tip teasing his hole. He slowly pushed it in. He didn't move for a while, letting Harry get used to the feeling. His free hand stroked his back, nails scratching his skin every now and then. Then he started to move his finger and the feeling didn't hurt as much as Harry thought. On the contrary, it was fucking good. After a few minutes, he felt his body getting hot. He arched his back a bit, pushing against Louis' fingers.

"Do you want more?"

Harry nodded vigorously. Louis removed his finger and pushed two in, this time not letting Harry get used to the stretch. Harry moaned and pushed his hips against the mattress to ease the tension in his cock.

"How do you feel?" Louis asked, grinning.

"It's really- really good."

Louis' movements became quickier, harsher, and Harry was just a whining mess. He could feel the sweat running down his spine. Louis gave a particularly hard thrust and Harry tensed. Louis stopped.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, worried.

"No, for fuck's sake, of course not, Louis, keep going," Harry moaned, pushing back on his fingers.

Louis gripped his hip tight, his nails digging into the skin. The scissor-like movements were driving him crazy. He kept hitting that knot of nerves that made Harry see stars. He was burning.

"Fuck, Harry, you're perfect," Louis breathed out.

"I'm ready, you can-"

"You sure? I don't wanna-"

"Louis,  _ please _ ."

His pleading must have been convincing, because Louis removed his fingers and wiped them on the sheets. Harry straightened on his elbows and turned his head to look at Louis. He had messy hair, red cheeks and his mouth was half-open. Harry couldn't decipher the blue in his eyes from his pupil as they were dark with fucking desire. 

Harry had had many relationships; many one-night stands, some that lasted a few weeks, rarely a few months and yet, he had never felt so desired. His heart rate picked up, his cock twitched and he moaned louder than he intended to. It didn't seem to bother Louis, because he lied on his side behind him, gripping his hip. 

Harry stretched his arm to grab a condom on the bedside table and gave it to Louis. He heard him rip it open and put it on. Harry quivered when Louis kissed his neck. He slipped his hand under Harry's thigh and lifted it a bit, then pushed his tip against Harry's rim. Harry took a deep breath in when Louis pushed inside, all the way in. Harry was so fucking turned on. A rush of desire ran through his body and his cock was hard and red against his stomach.

"You alright?" Louis asked, panting.

His hand was gripping Harry's hip hard and the latter guessed he was trying his best not to fuck him hard.

"For God' sake, Louis, move!" Harry almost shouted.

Louis chuckled, but obliged. His thrusts were slow but deep, pinning Harry against the mattress.

"Are you always so insolent when you get fucked?" he whispered, giving a hard thrust.

Harry whined and stretched his arm behind him to grip Louis' thigh. He pressed his back against Louis' hot chest. Louis bit the skin between his shoulder and neck, hard enough to leave a mark.

"I'm usually the one who tops," he admitted, his nails scratching Louis' skin.

"Yeah? Why am I the one doing the fucking, then?" Louis whispered, his thrusts becoming quicker.

"I don't know. Well. I just know I wanted to feel your cock inside me when I first saw you."

Louis' moan was muffled by Harry's shoulder and he slid his hand up his torso. He got closer and the angle changed, driving Harry mad. He moaned loudly when Louis slipped his fingers through his pubic hair.

"How have I never known that was an erogenous zone?" he asked, voice broken when Louis tugged it.

"You never had good lovers," he answered, smug.

"You're right, you're the best."

Harry quickly felt the usual warmth in the pit of his stomach and he knew it wouldn't take long to come. Louis weakly moaned into his neck when he pushed back on his cock. His hand wrapped around his cock and he only needed a few strokes and bites on his neck to come with a broken cry. He threw his head back, hitting Louis'. 

A few more sloppy thrusts and Louis came, moaning Harry's name in a way that could've made him hard again if he wasn't already shaking with his orgasm. After a few seconds, Louis pulled out and they both rolled on their backs to catch their breath. 

Louis took the condom off and threw it carelessly on the ground. Then he stood up and went to the bathroom. He came back with a wet face cloth that he handed to Harry. He cleaned his stomach and chest and put it on the bedside table.

"You know, I wasn't lying when I told you you were the best lover I've ever had," Harry admitted, fumbling with the sheets.

Louis chuckled, blushing. He put his underwear on and sat on the bed. He leaned over to kiss Harry.

"I could say the same about you," he whispered against his lips.

Then, he was about to get up, but Harry grabbed his wrist, heart beating fast.

"You have to go? It's dark, it's snowing, and it's cold. Do you wanna stay?"

Harry knew it was ridiculous to hope for more than a good fuck with him. Yet, there wasn't any hesitation in Louis' eyes when he nodded, smiling. He slipped under the sheets and got closer to Harry. He kissed him again and Harry had butterflies in his stomach. Louis' fingers stroked his back as he kissed him slowly, his tongue barely touching his. He backed off and kissed the tip of his nose, his hand clutching his hip. He reduced the space between them, burying his face in his neck. Rocked by Louis' hot breath against his skin, Harry quickly fell asleep, dreams and anxiety muddling his mind. 


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Harry woke up alone in a cold bed. The blanket had fallen down his back and he was cold. He pulled it back over his shoulders and nuzzled the pillow. It wasn't his, but Louis'. It was strange that he already knew his smell. 

Harry remembered the night before and shivered, thinking of their passionate love-making. He could hear noises downstairs and soon the stairs creaked. Something was put on the bedside table and the mattress sagged. Hot lips pressed between his shoulder blades. Harry shivered more.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty, it's time to wake up."

"I'm on holiday, I don't need to wake up this early," Harry mumbled, faking annoyance.

"It's almost noon," Louis chuckled, hot breath tickling Harry. "I've made you a cup of tea."

Harry turned around and rubbed his tired eyes. He had a slight headache and he winced. He took the cup of tea and thanked Louis with a nod. He still had wet hair from his shower and had borrowed a navy blue sweater from Niall.

"You're a guest," Harry said, blowing on his hot tea. "I should've woken earlier to cook you a nice breakfast."

"Don't worry about it," Louis smiled. "I'm used to getting up early. Did you sleep well?"

"I did. Listen, Louis, what happened yesterday- I'm not so direct usually. It was fucking good, don't doubt it. I hope you liked it too. Anyway, I think that the jetlag and my breakup and our meeting, everything turned my life upside down. What I mean is that-"

A phone rang. Louis', on the bedside table. They both turned their heads.

"Ernie," Harry said, before clasping a hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to be nosy."

"I have to answer."

Louis took his phone and ran downstairs. 

“Hi, love,” Harry heard him say, then a door slammed shut. 

Harry sighed and got out of the bed. He went to the bathroom to take a quick shower. He jumped into the bathtub, trying not to splash water everywhere. 

He wondered who all these people calling Louis were. He couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. Lottie, Ernie, Harry… Louis was really busy.

He got out of the bathtub and dried himself quickly. He put brown velvet trousers and an olive green sweater on. When he went downstairs, Louis was in the kitchen, washing the dishes.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, dying to know what had been said on the phone.

"Yeah, yeah," he answered, glancing over his shoulder.

Harry walked around the small table and took a tea towel off the counter top. He began to dry the wine glasses. Louis turned the water off and wrung the sponge out. Then he leaned against the sink, looking at Harry, uncertain.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, frowning.

Harry was expecting him to announce he had a wife and children.

"It's too late for breakfast, but do you wanna have lunch with me? I'd like to take you to a good restaurant in the next town," he proposed.

"A lunch? At a restaurant? Together? Like a date?"

Harry must have looked surprised, because Louis chuckled. He got closer, hands on Harry's hips. For the first time, Harry noticed their size difference. Louis was on his tiptoes and it wasn't enough to reach Harry's level. He kissed Harry's chin.

"Yeah. That's it. A date. That's what civilized people do after they have sex," he said with a sarcastic tone.

"Did we really have sex? I have trouble remembering it."

Louis pinched his waist, making Harry squeak. He leaned a bit more against him, his mouth against his neck.

"I loved what we did yesterday as much as you did," he whispered. "And I think there's no reason why we shouldn't go to the restaurant. Together. For a date."

Harry turned his head to kiss him briefly. When he stepped back, he was sure he saw Louis blush. And his heart was beating fast in his chest.

"Let's go, then," Harry said, trying not to sound too happy. "I'm hungry."

"Well, if you're hungry then," Louis chuckled, rolling his eyes.

***

Harry couldn't see anything but snow-covered fields. The road was narrow and he was quite happy that Louis was the one driving. He slipped his hands between his legs to heat them up. Louis noticed and smiled.

"Weather's a bit hotter in San Francisco, is it?"

"That’s for sure," Harry chuckled. "It's a bit cold in winter, but there's never snow. I like snow."

"It must be a pretty city. The sun, the beach, cute colored houses. You're lucky to live there."

"I don't know. I- it's nice to breathe a different kind of air."

Louis didn't answer and Harry was quite content that he didn't insist, because he didn't even know what he was thinking. They stayed silent until Louis turned right, driving down a long country lane, bracketed by enormous oak trees. At the end of the lane stood a wonderful old mansion. Louis parked and walked around the car to open Harry’s door. Harry took the hand he was offering and got out.

"It’s so big," he said, amazed by the beauty of the place.

"I knew you'd like it."

Louis kept hold of his hand as he dragged him along, walking up the few stairs to the restaurant. Harry was even more amazed by the dark wooden floors and the wooden walls. The maitre d’ took them to the main room, where a big marble fireplace sheltered a blazing fire. There weren't many people, as people were surely doing their last Christmas shopping.

"So, Louis, what is it that you do to have the luxury to take me on a date here?" Harry asked, opening his menu.

"I'm a writer," Louis answered, without looking up. "I write stories for children. I love children."

Harry's heart rate picked up. Louis was cute. So fucking cute. He tugged at his collar to ease his breathing.

"It must be fascinating! Did you always know that was what you wanted to do? What did you study in school?”

"I studied English literature and yes, I've always known I wanted to be a writer. I’ve been writing since I was a child. It's vital," he added with a little laugh.

"Do you work from home then?"

Harry wanted to know everything about him. Even if he knew deep inside it was a fucking bad idea. He couldn't fall in love.

A waiter came to take their order. Harry chose a roasted rack of lamb, Louis a duck confit. They both took a glass of Gigondas. Louis scooted closer to the table, resting his forearms on it.

"What were we saying? Oh, yes. I've got an office in London, that's where I work most of the time. But during Christmas holidays, I prefer being with- I prefer staying here, it's relaxing.

"Are you writing at the moment? What is it about? Have you just started or are you almost done?"

Louis laughed and took Harry's hand. He intertwined their fingers.

"Harry, darling, don't take offense, but I feel like I'm at a job interview."

Harry winced, blushing. He took a swig of the wine the waiter had brought.

"I know, I'm sorry," he squeaked, pinching his lips. "It's been a while since I had a date. It's intimate."

"With what we did yesterday, I can assure you that there is nothing that isn’t intimate between us."

Harry blushed more. The waiter brought their plates and they began eating. The lamb was delicious. It was good to be on the other side for a change.

"Okay, time's up," Louis smiled. "Your turn. Why did you come here?"

Louis simply looked curious. Harry wriggled on his chair, not sure what to answer. To lie or to be honest for once. He took a swig of wine.

"I'm smothered. Everything's too much. The city, my ex-boyfriend, my restaurant-"

"Your restaurant?" Louis repeated, incredulous, fork against his lip. "You said yesterday you were a cook."

"I am. I cook. I'm a chef. I have my own restaurant. The best restaurant in San Francisco, people say."

Harry almost felt relieved to have said who he really was. Louis' eyes lit up and it had nothing to do with desire and interest, like Harry always finds in his fans's. No, Louis was proud. 

"That's amazing, Harry! You must be really talented!"

"That's what they all say. But at the moment- I have to create the new menu. I've always been inspired. I love testing new things. But now, I totally lack inspiration.”

He had talked too fast and the bubble of anxiety that had almost disappeared since he first met Louis was on the verge of resurfacing. Louis must have felt it because he grabbed his wrist and caressed it with his thumb.

"Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "It's a hard time. It happens to everyone. Even to the best. You're gonna succeed in your new menu, I promise you."

Harry really wanted to believe in his kind and comforting words. But it wasn't just the creation of the menu that was a problem: it was his whole life. He felt like he couldn't be satisfied with a life that everyone dreamed about. Why couldn't he be happy with his dream job, his dream house, his dream friends? 

He thought about Ezra and all they had shared together. It was meaningless, bland, uninteresting. He was now sure he had never been in love with him. And what scared him to the core was that one touch, one smile, one kind glance from Louis put butterflies in his stomach and inaccessible dreams in his head. 

He liked everything about him: his polar blue eyes, the delicacy of his hands, the way he scratched the tip of his nose, his sarcastic humor, but also his kindness, sensibility and uncertainty. Harry had always thought soulmates were bullshit, but he was starting to doubt himself more and more. And how could he have said that to Louis? He certainly wasn't his only lover. And he couldn't forget the thousands of miles that parted them.

"I hope you're right," Harry smiled. "I need to go back to work. That's why I came here too."

"Are you insinuating you're losing your concentration because of me?" Louis asked with a mischievous smile.

"That's exactly what I'm insinuating. But I'm happy that you’re doing so. I really like your company."

The way he smiled and bit his lip were enough for Harry to understand that his feelings were reciprocated. The rest of the meal passed, with great stories and bursts of laughter. 

When they left the restaurant, the snow was falling again. It was cold, the wind was blowing hard and Harry shivered. Yet, when Louis asked if he wanted to have a walk in town before going back home, he said yes without hesitation. He didn't want the day to end. He knew it might be the last.

They walked past a small restaurant whose blinds were pulled down. Harry stopped, curious. The red-bricked storefront and the wooden badge were fucking good-looking. Harry leaned a bit more on the window to see inside. Louis got closer, hands on his waist, resting his chin on his shoulder.

"Why is it closed?" Harry asked, turning around.

"Mrs Perlman retired last year. She ran the restaurant for almost forty years, can you believe it? But she couldn't find any buyers. It's a pity, it was great to have a small restaurant in town. Harry, can we go home? I'm really cold."

On their walk back to the car, Louis couldn't stop talking. Harry learnt so many insignificant little things about him, but yet they had their significance. Louis loved hiking, hated the smell of lemon, had already dropped three phones down the toilet, and he dreamed of visiting Paris. That's why, when Harry told him he had studied culinary arts in the south of France, Louis decided to make him speak French for him. He tugged his arm, leaning against him with all his weight, making Harry topple.

"Come on, Harry, please," he whined, turning to him.

There was nobody in the street but them. Snowflakes fell upon Louis' hair, his lips were blood red and his eyes so blue. How could Harry say no to him?

" _Embrasse-moi_ ,” he whispered, smiling.

Harry had expected him not to understand, to make him repeat, but Louis moved quickly, arms around Harry's neck, mouth to mouth. It lasted one second.

"It's really sexy coming from your mouth," he chuckled, fingers entangling in his hair. "Say it again."

" _Embrasse-moi_."

Louis kissed him again, longer this time. His tongue slid between his lips and Harry wrapped his arms around his waist. Slowly, he slipped his hands under his coat and sweater, making him step back, squeaking.

"It's unfair, Harry! You’ve made me frozen to the bone!”

Harry kissed him briefly to shut him up and took his hand, dragging him behind him.

“Let's go, we're gonna catch a cold.”

***

When Louis parked in front of the cottage, Harry was ill at ease. The atmosphere was heavy in the car.

"Thanks for the meal, it was wonderful," he said, turning to Louis. "Thanks for everything, actually."

"Why do you make it sound like it was a failed date?" Louis chuckled, nervous. "Was it a failed date?"

"No, of course not, Louis!" Harry objected. "I'm just- tired. I think I'm gonna take a nap."

"Alright, I'll pretend I believe you."

"Louis," Harry sighed, wincing. "I'm leaving in nine days. It makes this complicated and I'm not sure I can handle complicated right now."

It burnt his tongue to say those words but he had to protect himself. He knew he would have his heart broken. Louis nodded, lips pursed. Harry leaned in to kiss him. Louis kissed back without hesitation.

"And that doesn't make it complicated?" he chuckled, sliding his hand on his thigh.

"We already had sex, what's one more kiss? Sex makes everything complicated. Even when there isn't sex, it's complicated.''

"Which is why we should have sex again."

Harry smiled, but his heart wasn't in it. He could see that Louis wasn't at ease either.

"Louis, you're an amazing writer from London, I'm a great chef from San Francisco. The distance- it's destructive. But you know you're seductive and sexy. Fucking seductive and sexy.”

"You’re not making things any easier, Harry,” Louis sighed. "It doesn't really matter anyway. I'm going to London for a few days to see my editor. I'm not going to bang on your door dunk. Promise.”

"Can I have your number?"

Louis smiled, and put his number in Harry's phone.

"Great. And you know where I am," Harry said. "We just need to- take a step back."

"Okay."

Harry couldn't stand seeing him this hurt. It confirmed that he felt the same as Harry. He leaned on him, kissed him briefly and got out of the car. He ran to the door, but looked back. Louis was looking at him, smiling. Harry waved at him and Louis shook his head, laughing. Harry heard him start the engine when he closed the door. He would have lied if he had said he wasn't on the verge of crying.


	8. Chapter 8

After taking a long and hot bath and putting warm pajamas on, Harry went back to the living room and started a fire. He settled on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket and opened his notebook. He took a deep breath in and wrote down on the blank pages the few ideas that had emerged since he got back from the restaurant. Duck fillet with a declension of marrows, parmesan and truffle risotto, roasted pears with a caramel cream. He knew it wasn't enough, but it was a good start. He put his pen down.

He couldn't stop thinking about Louis. No matter what he was looking at, touching, smelling, everything made him think of Louis. He barely knew him. Was it possible to be this enamoured?

He closed his notebook and put it on the coffee table, picking up his phone instead. Doing the calculation in his head, he dialled the number. It was almost 9:30am in San Francisco. Zayn picked up on the second ring.

"Hey, Harry! We were wondering when you'd call us. How are you?"

Harry smiled. He missed his best friends. He suddenly felt melancholic. He heard Zayn put the phone on speaker and soon, he heard Liam's voice, deep with sleep.

"We miss you so much, Haz! How's the Cotswolds? Are you having fun?"

"I am, a lot. I like the snow. It’s doing me some good, the change."

There was a moment of silence and Harry could imagine their stunned looks. He winced. He wasn't convincing.

"You like the snow?” Liam repeated, on the verge of laughing.

"Yes, I like the snow, it's really-"

"Okay, Harry, is there something else?" Zayn sighed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just-"

"Harry. Please."

"Oh for fuck's sake, guys- I met someone."

They didn't answer for a few seconds and Harry felt almost relieved to have told them. He needed their good advice more than ever.

"Well," Liam said. "How did you meet him?"

"He's Niall's best friend. We met a bit by chance. He's- Fuck, he's so handsome. And so nice. Thoughtful. We went to the pub together and then we had sex. And he took me to a restaurant. For a date. A fucking date."

"Why are you making it sound like that’s a bad thing?" Zayn asked, thinking. "You're on holiday, you met a really nice guy, you fucked him and he took you on a date. Where’s the problem?"

"I told him I didn't want complicated," Harry admitted, biting his thumb. "With the restaurant and the breakup with Ezra- I came here to relax, not to get into more trouble."

He heard his friend sigh heavily, and then their voices became muffled, as if they had moved the phone away so that he couldn't decipher what they were saying.

"Come on, guys, say it already," he winced, fearing their answer.

"Harry, darling, don't take offense, but- it sounds like you have a mental block. You stay stuck in a repetitive harebrained scheme of relationships. The question isn't even if it's gonna change one day. The question is, do you really want to change?"

Harry didn't answer. He ripped his cuticle with his teeth and watched the blood pearl on the wound. For as long as he could remember, all his relationships had a sense of deja-vu. Always the same scenario that happened before his eyes, powerless, as if the end was already written. On the surface, he felt like he was leading his life, but he wasn't. Feelings were everything he couldn't manage. That's what terrified him. Yet, he was sure he had never felt something this strong. For the first time in his life, someone could see through his shell. And it wasn't so scary after all.

"I have to go, guys," he said quickly. "I'll call you later."

He didn't wait for their answer before he hung up. He went upstairs to get dressed. Then, he took a deep breath and disappeared in the dark night.

***

Louis lived in a beautiful manor house, warmly lit, the facade covered with ivy. Harry got out of the car carrying a bag containing nice things that could lead to a good meal and a good hangover. The gravel crunched under his feet as he walked towards the steps. Smoke was coming from the chimney. Harry knocked on the wooden door, but no one answered. With shaking hands, nervous, Harry rang the bell.

Louis opened the door a few seconds later.

"Surprise!" Harry smiled.

"Hey. Yes. It is."

The door was half-opened and Harry could only see his ripped jeans and his creased sweater. His hair was a bit messed up.

"Okay, well," Harry sighed. "I was at home doing nothing and thinking of you and well, I thought that I like complicated and maybe it's even not complicated at all, and it's ridiculous because we're five miles apart, alone in our houses when we could-"

Harry didn't know how to end his phrase. Louis strangely nodded, biting his lip.

"I also wanted to apologize, I really should've let you in this afternoon. I don't even know why-"

There were bursts of voices and laughters and Louis got out on the steps to close the door. That's when Harry understood.

"You're not alone, are you?"

"No, I'm not alone. I'm so sorry."

Harry felt like he was stabbed in the stomach, but he remained standing straight, a fake smile on his lips.

"Oh. Don't be. I shouldn't have-"

Louis looked hurt, his lip still tucked between his teeth. Harry didn't understand why.

"Seriously," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Don't worry about this. It doesn't matter."

He was about to leave, but behind Louis, the door opened a bit and a little girl appeared. She looked so much like Louis that Harry stepped back. He tried to remain neutral, but inside he was screaming. What was the actual fuck?

The little girl tugged at Louis' sweater, her blue eyes never leaving Harry's face.

"Who's this?" she asked in a low voice.

"This is Harry," Louis answered, looking nervous. "He's a friend of mine."

The little girl walked towards him, smiling. She was about five years old.

"I'm Doris," she said. "Why are you standing outside? It's cold."

Louis suddenly came out of his stupor. He pushed the door open to let Harry enter and took the bag from Harry's arms. Harry would rather have run away, but Doris took his hand and dragged him inside. It was a lot warmer in the hall. Harry looked around him. There were shoes of different sizes next to the door, animal shaped backpacks hung on coat pegs, photos and children’s drawings adorning the walls. A family lived here. Harry expected to see Louis' partner coming out of the kitchen anytime soon.

Doris let go of his hand and ran down the corridor.

"Ernie!" she screamed. "Come and see who's here!"

Harry turned towards Louis. He looked ill at ease, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Listen, I'm so sorry," he started, but Harry didn't let him finish.

"Are you married?" Harry asked in a low voice, trying not to look horrified.

"No! Of course not! I told you I-"

He stopped when Doris came back with a little boy who was her age. Again, it struck Harry how much he looked like Louis. The little boy seemed more reserved than Doris. He stayed close to Louis, looking at Harry with curiosity. Louis stroked his hair.

"This is Ernest. He's a little shy. Ernie, this is Harry."

"We were doing coloring-in games, do you wanna see mine?" Doris asked, excited.

"Hum, well, I'm not sure-”

"Stay," Louis demanded, always pleading. "Please."

Harry nodded and let Doris take his hand to drag him into the living room. Louis and Ernest followed them. There was a big Christmas tree decorated with red and gold in one corner of the living room. A set of string lights made the ornaments shine. A fire blazed in the hearth and a cartoon played on the TV. The couch looked cosy enough to want to take a nap. There were papers scattered on the coffee table, with felt pens and mugs half-filled with hot cocoa. Louis walked behind Harry, running his hands on his shoulders to take his coat off.

"I'll explain everything to you, I promise," he whispered.

Harry nodded. It might be the only reason why he decided to stay. That, and because Doris was really cute, with her big smile and unicorn pyjamas. Ernest too, whose shyness reminded Harry of his when he was a little boy. He sat on the side of the couch, not really knowing what to do.

"I'm gonna make a cup of hot cocoa for Harry," Louis said. "Be nice to him and do not embarrass me."

Doris rolled her eyes and sat next to Harry. Ernest was sitting on the carpet, doing his coloring-in game. He tipped his head up every now and then to look curiously at him. Doris' little hand came to rest on his.

"Your nails are so beautiful," she cooed, touching them slightly. "Loulou doesn't want me to wear nail varnish at school."

"But you're on holiday, right? We should ask. Maybe he'll say yes."

Her face lit up and Harry smiled. Her ginger curls were falling in front of her eyes and Harry tucked a strand behind her ear.

"Say yes to what?" Louis asked, coming back in with a mug.

"Painting my nails all beautiful like Harry’s," Doris answered, pouting. "Please, Lou."

"Please, Lou," Harry repeated with the same tone.

Louis chuckled and handed the mug to Harry. He sat on the arm of the couch. Their arms brushed.

"Well, when you ask so cutely," he sighed. "Come on, darling, go and get your nail varnish."

Doris stood up and ran down the corridor, shouting with excitement. She came back a few minutes later with a small bottle of sparkly green nail varnish. She gave it to Harry and put her little hands on his lap. Harry opened the bottle and began to apply the varnish on her nails. Focused on his task, he didn't notice that Ernest had abandoned his coloring-in game to observe them. Perched on Louis' lap, he whispered something in his ear. Louis listened carefully.

"You can ask him yourself. He's not gonna bite you."

Ernest turned towards Harry, cheeks flushed.

"Can you do mine too?" he asked softly. "Please."

"Of course, give me your hands," Harry replied cheerfully.

Ernest took Doris' place, who was now shaking her hands with fervor to make the varnish dry. Harry applied the varnish on Ernest's nails, whose eyes were shining with pride. It was a peaceful moment and Harry quickly realized he liked being here. Of course he had a lot of questions on the tip of his tongue, but at the same time, it gave him a warm glow in his heart to spend some time with such curious and kind children. Who were they? Why were they living with Louis? Why hadn’t he mentioned anything about them to Harry?

After finishing Ernest's nails, Harry turned towards Louis.

"Do you want me to do yours, too?" he asked.

"No, thank you," Louis chuckled. "You're great. With varnish and children."

The end of his phrase was just a whisper. Harry noticed for the first time that Louis looked exhausted. He had dark circles under his eyes. Louis looked away and stood up.

"It's time to go to bed, little monsters. Come on, upstairs!"

Doris and Ernest whined, like every child when asked to go to bed. Louis gently pushed them towards the stairs. But Doris fought back.

"Can we at least show our castle to Harry? Please!"

"Yes, please!" Ernest went further, with pleading eyes. “It's gonna be quick!"

Louis turned to Harry, waiting for his answer. Harry nodded.

"I'd love to see your castle," he said, following them upstairs.

There was always something magical in children's bedrooms. Toys were scattered everywhere on the rug, stickers adorned the walls, small lamps created shadows on the wooden floor. A castle made of blankets stood between the two beds.

"Waouh, that's amazing," Harry said, standing by the door, next to Louis.

"Let's go inside."

Harry didn't have time to answer, because Ernest and Doris each took one of his hands and dragged him along. They entered easily, but Harry had to crouch down and get on all fours to get inside. Louis followed him.

"Lie next to me, please," Ernest asked.

Harry obliged, trapped between Louis and the little boy. On the ceiling of their castle, there were silver stars and a moon cut out of construction paper. A night light created a cosy atmosphere. No one was talking but it wasn't an awkward silence. Everything was calm, peaceful. Harry could have fallen asleep, lulled by their slow breathing. But Doris burped, making them laugh.

"That's charming," Louis remarked.

"Sorry," the little girl giggled.

"What do you think of our castle?" Ernest asked, turning on his side.

"It's wonderful. Who cut out all the stars?"

"The three of us," Doris answered with pride.

"We're the three Musketeers," Ernest sighed.

Next to Harry, Louis shuffled. He slid his hand on Harry's before intertwining their fingers.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Doris?"

"You smell really good."

"Really? Thank you."

"Lou says I cannot wear perfume," she sighed, sounding disappointed.

"You make me sound like a total tyrant," Louis chuckled.

"I can wear perfume because I'm older," Harry explained.

"You don't need perfume, you smell naturally good," Louis went further. "Well, Harry smells naturally good too, but that's not the point."

His fingers squeezed Harry's. Harry leaned a bit more against his shoulder.

"Harry, are you gonna sleep over? Because if you want to, we can push our beds together and it could be really fun."

Harry could feel Louis tense next to him.

"It's really nice of you to invite me, but maybe next time? Would that be okay?"

Doris and Ernest nodded, smiling wide. Harry felt Louis relax.

"Our brother never invites new friends over," Doris sighed. “Can you promise you'll come back?”

Our brother. Harry turned his head towards Louis. The latter was already watching him, worried. At that moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

"Yeah, I'll come back," he promised.

***

Harry was waiting for Louis, sat on the couch, nervous. He couldn't wait to hear his story, but at the same time, he was terrified.

He jumped when Louis came into the living room, two glasses of red wine in his hands. He took a swig of his glass before even handing the other to Harry. Harry turned to him, bringing his legs under his bum.

"The kids absolutely love you," Louis sighed with a smile. "They want you to come back to play with them. They have a plan to build a whole family of snowmen in the garden."

"They are- amazing."

"Thanks. Doris is a true chatterbox. She cannot stop talking. And Ernest… He stays behind but he observes everything. I love them so much."

"I'd just like to understand why you didn't tell me about them," Harry said softly.

He didn't want to be rough with Louis. But the fact that he was in charge of two young children made things more complicated than they already were.

"Because I never talk about them to people… To people I meet," he answered with difficulty.

_To people I sleep with_ , he meant. Harry nodded, taking a swig of his wine.

"But I wanted to tell you when we were at the restaurant."

"And?"

"Well, I told myself it wasn't the right time. Actually, when's the right time to tell someone I'm the legal guardian of my little siblings? I didn't want you to feel sorry for me, or worse, to make you flee. Perhaps you don't wanna hear this, but you're not just a one-night stand to me.”

Harry smiled. At least they were on the same page.

"But you wanted to go to the restaurant so we could get to know each other," he argued.

"I know," Louis whined, wincing. "I have no excuse. It's just so much easier to pretend I'm just a normal single guy. It's so complicated to explain who I truly am. Because actually, I'm anything but normal. I obtained custody of the twins when our parents died. A car crash. They were barely two years old. I'm not just their brother, I'm their parent. And it's a full-time job. I work, I educate them, I've read so many cook books because I barely knew how to cook pasta. I organize children's parties, I've even learnt to sew. That's why I prefer not to say anything. I don't even meet many guys, if that's what you think. The kids were at our grandparents' last week, and when they're not here, it's easier to pretend I'm someone else. Someone who doesn't always have paint on his fingers or ink on his clothes. I don't even remember how to date. And I cannot involve them in something that might not last."

Right, it was harder to hear this than Harry would have admitted. Louis's story was moving and complicated. It must have required so many sacrifices. Harry admired him for his strength. It wouldn't be easy to raise children this young, after such a tragedy.

"You're right," Harry agreed with a weird voice. "I'm just the man you've slept with one time."

"The failed first time doesn't count?"

For the first time since the beginning of their conversation, Harry looked him in the eye. They were resigned and sad at the same time. Harry finished his glass of wine and threw his head back. Louis did the same.

"Alright. I think it's way more complicated than we thought."

"Like you said, I'm a writer in London and you're a chef in San Francisco. We live in different worlds. I have chicken in my garden."

"Chicken?" Harry giggled.

"Yes. I sew and I have chicken. Welcome to my life."

There was a moment of silence and the atmosphere was heavy. Louis helped himself to some more wine, offering some to Harry, but he refused. What could he do now?

"Thanks a lot for staying tonight," Louis finally said. “It did them good. It did me good too. They're right, you know? I rarely invite people here."

"I had fun too," Harry admitted.

But it was the end. He stood up and put his coat on. Louis stood up too and grabbed his wrist.

"Harry, despite how complicated everything is, I like you. Thank you, really, for everything."

"Don't be so dramatic," Harry chuckled, trying to swallow the hard knot he had in his throat. "We'll see each other again before I leave. I promise."

He leaned to kiss Louis on the cheek, so that things wouldn't get worse, but Louis turned his head to the side. His lips were soft and hot and Harry didn't want to step back. But he had to.

"You're deceitful," he giggled, blushing.

"You must be when you're raising two young monsters."

Harry insisted that he didn't take him back to the car. He drove carefully and when he arrived at the cottage, he was exhausted. He went directly upstairs, stripped off his clothes and slipped under the blankets. The evening flashed before his closed eyes and he found it almost surreal. He sank a bit more under the blankets. It was not a chorus of  _ Louis, Louis, Louis _ that boomed in his head. It was  _ Louis, Doris, Ernest _ . Why wasn't he as terrified as he should have been?


	9. Chapter 9

The days passed and Harry resisted the desire to call Louis. He knew he had left for London to see his editor, so he enjoyed his free time to discover the region, the typical towns around. Everything was peaceful. Snow kept on falling from time to time so he still didn't see much of the landscape other than while it was covered in white. He liked Bibury and its pretty church, Stow-on-the-Wold and its honey-colored buildings, Castle Combe and its postcard setting. He even went to Bath and spent the afternoon relaxing at the Thermae Bath Spa, visiting the Royal Crescent and wandering along the main street. He came back exhausted. Wrapped in a blanket, he sat on the armchair next to the fire, a cup of tea in his hand. He jumped when his phone rang, smiling when he saw the name on his screen.

"Hey!" he greeted, putting his mug on the table.

"Hi, Harry!" Niall exclaimed through the speaker. "How are you? Are you having fun?"

"I'm fine. Your house is amazing. I love it. I toured the region too, it's so beautiful. I went to Bath today. What about you?"

"I'm having so much fun! Your DVD collection is amazing, I wish I could watch them all. I make the most of your gym too. And your friends took me to a nice bar yesterday! I called you because I-" Niall stopped mid-sentence. Harry heard a buzzing sound in the background, then fingers tapping on a keyboard.

"Sorry, my best friend's calling me on Skype," Niall explained. "I'll call him back later."

"Louis?" Harry asked, mouth dry.

"Yes. He told me you had met the other day. It's nice that he’s been getting out. He's a real Casanova.”

"How is he?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too curious.

"He seems fine. He doesn't really like going back to London, with the…"

He didn't finish his sentence.  _ With the children _ , Harry guessed. He wondered what Louis had said about him. And what Liam and Zayn had told him, too. He hoped they hadn’t said too much bullshit.

"What did you want to ask me?" Harry went on.

"Oh. Yeah. Well, I love San Francisco so much and I wondered if you'd agree to extend the exchange until New Year's Eve?"

Harry was a bit taken aback. They were supposed to get their own house back a few days later. But he wasn't against the idea of an even more extended holiday. He could take this free time to visit his family.

"That's a wonderful idea," Harry agreed. "Let's do it."

"Great! Thanks a lot! Well, I'm not gonna bother you any longer. You should call Louis, I'm sure he'd love to spend some time with you. He told me you're really nice."

Harry blushed but couldn't help his face from breaking out in a ridiculous smile. He hung up and straightened in his armchair. The fire was crackling and outside, the wind made the branches bend in the trees. Since their last evening together, while he tried so hard not to, he could do nothing but think of Louis. Louis and the kids. He had rewound the memory in his head for days. Louis was their tutor. The kids were cute, even cuter than Louis. Louis was so different from the men Harry had had in his life. Harry had never been attracted to the “Nice Guys”, but… Louis was the kindest man he'd ever met. He knew that his friends were right when they said he needed to get out of his shell. And he really wanted to try with Louis. He also knew that it didn't matter, because he was not the man Louis needed and that they had built up some fences that last night, but… Not all men were absolute dickheads and he had to travel to another continent to realize it. Anyway, he was ridiculous, but he liked Louis. Maybe a little more than that.

He decided to call Louis the next day, but fate decided otherwise. Harry was about to watch Dirty Dancing for the umpteenth time, when his phone rang again. Louis. Harry picked up with shaky hands.

"Hey, Louis, how are you?" he asked, hoping his voice wouldn't betray his feverishness.

"Hey, Harry, I'm… Sorry to bother you but the kids wouldn't stop asking me when they'll see you again, so I wanted to know if… For God's sake, be quiet or I'll hang up! Doris, for the last time, you can't put your princess shoes on to go out! Sorry, Harry. I just wanted to know if you'd like to come with us to the Christmas Market in Gloucester. You don't have to say yes, but…"

"Can you come pick me up?" Harry hurried to ask.

"Hum, yeah, yeah, of course! We'll be there in ten minutes!"

Before Louis hung up, Harry heard excited shrieks in the background. He smiled and quickly went upstairs to get dressed. He might have been more excited than the kids.

***

The journey to Gloucester was joyful. Doris and Ernest destroyed their ears with their interpretation of Christmas songs. Louis was wincing, but couldn't help but smile. Harry really wanted to put his hand on his thigh, but he knew they were being watched.

It was almost dark and it started to snow when they arrived. Louis walked behind Harry, his hand on his lower back.

"Thanks for coming," he whispered, opening the door for the kids. "You couldn't have made them any happier."

"I'm happy to spend some time with you. I really wanted to see them again."

Louis smirked and Harry understood he felt the same. The kids ran to him, taking each of his hands. They slowly made their way to the Christmas Market.

"Harry! Have you seen my hair? Loulou braided it!"

"Harry! Did you know I had a stomach ache on Christmas? But now, I feel better!"

"Your braids are wonderful, Doris. Louis did a great job. And it's really sad if you were sick on Christmas, Ernest, but I'm happy you're feeling better. Did you have a good Christmas? What did you get?"

It was really cold. The kids' glove-covered hands kept Harry's warm. The Christmas market was big. Numerous chalets were erected and many fairy lights gave a warm and cosy atmosphere. It smelled like wood fire, mulled wine and doughnuts. Harry was suddenly hungry. Louis was walking in front of them, his small figure hidden by his thick coat.

"I got a game to do magic tricks! And a pair of roller skates, too," Ernest said.

"And I got a nail varnish like yours!" Doris exclaimed, squeezing Harry's hand. "And a princess dress with heeled shoes!"

"Which was a really bad idea from Santa Claus," Louis sighed, turning to them.

Harry smiled. Ernest let his hand go to join Louis. Harry walked a bit faster to catch up with them, dragging Doris behind him. He had to squeeze against Louis to walk past the bystanders. Louis smelled like eau de cologne.

"What did Santa Claus bring to your brother?" Harry asked with a smile.

"Nothing! He's been too naughty!" Doris giggled.

Harry turned his head at the same time as Louis. Louis had a cheeky and dirty smile playing on his lips. They were so red that Harry wanted to kiss them. He had almost forgotten how he could make his head spin.

"I have to admit I was a bit naughty the last few days," Louis admitted. "But the little monsters gave me a wonderful frame with a picture of us for my birthday."

"Your birthday?"

"Yeah. I was born on December 24th."

Harry was a bit disappointed not to have known before. They walked around for a few minutes, rocked by Doris' endless chatting.

"Loulou, can we have candy floss, please?" she asked with angel eyes.

"Yeah! And a ride on the Ferris wheel!" Ernest exclaimed, tugging at Louis' sleeve.

"How am I supposed to say no to such pretty little faces?" Louis asked, thoughtful. "Oh no, I'm joking, you're so ugly!"

"That's not true! You're crazy!"

"Yeah, you're a liar! Harry, tell him we're not ugly!"

Harry and Louis burst out in laughter under Doris and Ernest's dumbfounded looks. Children truly had no sense of humor. Slowly, Harry pushed them towards a chalet where delicious candies were sold.

"You're the most beautiful children I've ever seen," Harry reassured them, getting into the line. "He's the one who's ugly."

"Yeah, and he has a big butt!"

"Doris!"

Louis flattened his hand on his little sister's mouth, horrified. Harry saw him blush, while the few people around them tried hard not to laugh. Harry himself was about to die laughing at Doris' frankness, but he understood Louis' embarrassment. He slid behind him discreetly, hand on his waist. He leaned against him, mouth close to his ear.

"Personally, I think it's wonderful," he whispered.

Louis leaned a bit more against Harry's chest. They ordered a candy floss for the children and doughnuts for them, then they walked towards the Ferris wheel. The kids were all excited, walking in front of them hand in hand. Louis slid his hand in the crook of Harry's arm and took a doughnut from the paper bag. The wind was blowing hard and Harry dragged Louis closer to him. He could almost feel his body warmth through the layers of their clothes.

"You're so sensitive to the cold," Louis chuckled, with his mouth full. "A real Californian."

"Louis, it's freezing," Harry winced. "How can you bear it?"

"I suppose I'm used to cold and humidity. Just like you're used to hot and dryness. You'd be depressed to live here all year."

"No. I think I wouldn't mind getting used to it."

Louis turned to him, confused. He opened his mouth to answer, but Doris ran to them.

"Come on! We're waiting for you!"

Her hands were sticky and she had sugar all around her mouth. Louis got a hanky out of his pocket and handed it to her. Ernest was already waiting in the line, tapping his foot on the ground, impatient. Harry went to him and ran a hand through his thin hair.

"Are you alright, Ernie? Do you like the Christmas market?" he asked.

"Yes, I really like the fairy lights, I think they're beautiful. I'm happy you came with us, Harry."

"So am I, Ernie. I'm really happy to be with you."

"Louis told us he would call you, but everytime we asked, he said he had forgotten. I think he was a little afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid you wouldn't come, I think."

Harry hummed. As cute as Louis was, he was also stupid. He finally joined them with Doris. They bought their tickets and they climbed onto the seat. The Ferris wheel started and they all turned their heads to the amazing view before them. The Christmas market was smaller and smaller and soon, they could only see the fairy lights.

"It's so beautiful!" Doris cooed. "We should take a picture. Loulou, take a picture, please!"

Louis nodded and took his phone out of his pocket. Doris and Ernest got closer, smiling wide. Louis took the picture and Doris stretched her hand out.

"I wanna take a picture of you and Harry now!"

Louis looked at Harry, but Harry reassured him with a nod. Their shoulders pressed against one another, he slipped his arm behind him, resting his hand on his hip. Harry shivered.

"Harry, you have to smile!"

"Hey, Doris, watch your tone, please" Louis said.

His authority made Harry shiver more. He shuffled on his seat, clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Doris apologized quickly. "Can you smile, please?"

Harry couldn't smile more. The void that had burnt in his stomach for a few months now seemed filled again. He wondered for a moment if it wasn't that, the real life. The real happiness.

He was bold enough to lean his head against Louis' shoulder. They stayed in the same position until the end of the ride. When they got out of the basket, the kids ran towards a blonde young woman that was waiting near the Ferris wheel. Harry was about to catch them but Louis grabbed his wrist.

"It's my sister," he explained. "Don't worry."

He dragged Harry behind him as he waved to his sister. She turned to them with a bright smile.

"Hey, Lou! Sorry, I'm a bit late, but…"

"It's okay, we don't mind. Let me introduce you to Harry. Harry, this is Lottie."

Lottie had the same blue eyes, even clearer with the dark eyeliner at the base of her lashes. She shook Harry's hand.

"Nice to finally meet you, Harry," she smiled. "Louis won't stop talking about you."

Harry turned to Louis, smirking. His cheeks were bright red.

"Lottie, you should go," he hissed. "It'd be a shame if you missed the cinema showing."

"You're right," she chuckled. "I'll bring the kids back in two days. Doris, Ernie, say goodbye to Louis and Harry. Let's go."

The kids threw their arms around Louis' neck, making Harry's heart melt. Then it was Harry's turn, and he stumbled backwards. He squeezed them tight in his arms, his heart beating fast. They kissed him on each cheek, then stepped back, grabbing Lottie's hands.

"Have a nice evening, guys! I hope I'll see you again, Harry!”

Then they disappeared among the crowd. Louis turned to Harry with an embarrassed smile. Harry grabbed his arm and they started walking again.

"How many brothers and sisters have you got?" he asked.

"We're a big family," Louis chuckled. "You already know Doris and Ernest, you just met Lottie, but there's also Fizzy, Daisy and Phoebe. They all live in London for their studies. Lottie often helps me with the twins. They love spending time with her. Especially Doris, I think it does her good to have a female presence."

"You're really a tight-knit family," Harry remarked with admiration.

"We're trying. How was your Christmas? I wanted to call you, but after what happened…"

"Hey, Lou, it's okay," Harry reassured him. "I understand. And I had a nice Christmas, it was a bit strange to be apart from my family, but we Skyped for almost three hours. And I stuffed myself with salmon and champagne. It was fun."

They walked past a chalet with craft jewelry and Louis stopped, holding Harry back. He looked at the leather bracelets with shining eyes. He ran a finger over the one decorated with a moonstone.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" the little woman behind the counter asked. “It gives protection and is associated with love. It has amazing properties to make love life easy. It brings kindness, passion and understanding."

"Do you like it?" Harry asked.

Louis slowly nodded, almost shyly. Harry took his wallet out of his pocket.

"Can you wrap it please?"

Louis turned to him, confused.

"No, no, no, Harry, it's not what I meant! It's really not-"

"Shut up," Harry giggled. "It's for Christmas and your birthday. Please."

The wind kept on messing Louis' hair, the tip of his nose was rosy, his lips slightly cracked, but Harry couldn't help but lean in and kiss him briefly. When Harry stepped back, he was ready to apologize, but Louis was grinning widely.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Harry didn't know if it was for the bracelet or the kiss. They set off again, arm in arm. When they arrived at the car, Harry’s fingers were numbed from the cold. He climbed on the seat and Louis put the heater to the maximum.

"Should I take you back home?" he asked.

His tone truly showed that he was waiting for an answer Harry shouldn't really give. He really should drive Louis as crazy as he was himself. He slid his hand on Louis' knee, going up his thigh.

"The kids won't be back before two days, right?"

"Yeah."

"Let's make the most of it, then."


	10. Chapter 10

" _ Embrasse-moi, embrasse-moi, embrasse-moi _ ."

Harry moaned loudly, feeling a bit overwhelmed by these words thrown in a perfect French accent with a sexy Londonian twist. He slid his hand up Louis' chest, covered in sweat, and gripped his nape, leaning in to kiss him feverishly. His knees were squeezing his hips strong enough to leave bruises. Nobody had ever ridden Harry with such passion and lust. He could feel Louis' thighs starting to shake, the movements of his hips jerking more and more. Everything was too much; his skin, his smell, his gasps, the tight feeling of his ass around Harry's cock. Louis straightened and the change in angle made him shout. His back arched and he threw his head back, mouth half-open. Harry felt him contract around his cock.

"Fuck, Louis," he sighed, sliding his fingers around his throat.

His hand wrapped around his wrist and he pressed Harry's fingers harder around his skin. Softly, he tightened his grip around his throat and watched, amazed, as Louis rolled his eyes back. He was so beautiful, his skin shining with sweat, his hair a mess, his ass slapping Harry's hips in such a dirty way, that Harry came unexpectedly and hard. Unconsciously, his fingers clutched around Louis' thoat. He was about to apologize, afraid of hurting him, but he came between their bodies, hard enough to spurt a few drops onto Harry's chin. Louis collapsed on top of him, his cock slipping out of his ass. His hot breath tickled his skin and Harry softly stroked his back. A few minutes passed and Louis straightened, kissing Harry's mouth.

"I never thought I'd have missed this so much," he chuckled.

"I cannot say otherwise."

He stood up, stretched and winced when his back cracked. Harry watched his bum bounce when he disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the water running in the bathtub. Harry stood up on unsteady legs. He could already feel the ache in his muscles. Not surprising, after three intense orgasms. He tossed the almost-empty pack of condoms into the garbage on his way into the bathroom. Louis was already in the bathtub, looking through the window. Harry sat on the edge of the bathtub and ran his fingers through Louis' hair. The latter leaned his head into the touch, almost purring in delight. He had tired eyes and numerous purple lovebites everywhere on his body. Harry wanted time to stop.

"We should buy another pack of condoms for Niall," he said. "He's gonna hate us."

"You're right, I'll write it on the grocery list, between applesauce and tear-free shampoo," Louis answered sarcastically. "Get in."

Harry didn't need to be asked twice and slid behind him, shivering when the hot water touched his skin. The bathtub was too small for their two intertwined bodies, so Harry kept his legs outside. But it really didn't matter. He sighed with pleasure, resting his head against the edge of the bathtub. Louis shifted to get comfortable between Harry's thighs, pressing his back against his chest. Harry let his hand wander down Louis' torso, slowly sliding on his stomach.

"If you dare to go lower, I'm gonna fight you," Louis warned. "You nearly killed me. I'm fucking exhausted."

"But it's a good fatigue, right?" Harry asked, kissing the side of his head.

"The best. I'll have a hard time walking straight with how hard you fucked me."

"You're so explicit, I'm shocked."

"The kids aren't home, I'm allowed to say as many dirty words as I want. Have you found new ideas for your menu, by the way?"

"Not really. I'm not inspired at all."

"What are you gonna do then?"

Harry closed his eyes. He could have fallen asleep because of their frenzied sex, the hot water relaxing his tensed muscles and Louis' fingers rubbing circles on his thighs.

"I think I'm gonna take a bit more time to relax. Take a step back. See if that's what I still want to do."

Saying out loud what Harry had finally admitted a few days before relieved him more than he had thought. Indeed, after thinking about his inability to create the new menu, he had realized that his job might not satisfy him anymore. He was sick just thinking about leaving his restaurant, but his health and well-being were more important. He had decided to extend his holiday. On the other hand, he still hadn't found a way to tell Zayn.

"Does that mean you're gonna stay a little longer?" Louis asked, hope tangible in his voice.

"Louis…"

"Niall told me you extended the exchange until New Year's Eve. And I thought maybe you'd like to celebrate it with me. With us. I know it won't be a crazy party, but…"

"Hey, hey, hey, don't talk so fast," Harry giggled, tightening his arms around Louis.

He kissed his shoulder and could feel him shiver in his arms. Harry immediately forgot about his projects and nodded.

"I'd love to celebrate New Year's Eve with you," he whispered against Louis' neck.

Louis turned around in Harry's arms, sending a splash of water onto the floor. He kissed his mouth, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. Harry gripped his hips so he wouldn't slip and fall.

"Thank God," Louis whispered against Harry's lips. "Do you think your friends would like to join us? There are enough rooms for-"

Harry flattened a hand on his mouth.

"I'll ask them," he smiled. "Thanks for offering. It's really nice of you."

Louis' tired eyes were sparkling. Harry stroked his cheek and put a strand of hair behind his ear. Harry was more than happy to spend a few more days with Louis. But at the same time, he had a tight knot in his throat.

He got out of the bathtub and wrapped himself in a large towel. Then he helped Louis out of the bathtub. It was almost two in the morning and they were both on the verge of passing out from exhaustion. But they couldn't help snuggling, Louis stepping on Harry's feet, always wanting to get closer, to kiss him, again and again. They parted long enough to put their pajamas on, but once in bed, Louis' legs intertwined with his, his cold feet against his calves. Harry slipped his hand under his t-shirt and kissed him softly, their tongues barely touching. Against his own wishes, Harry felt his cock hardening and he slipped his fingers under the hem of Louis' pajamas. Louis moved back, already panting.

"Harry, please, you kiss like a God and you're an amazing lover and I’d be up for another round tonight, but…"

"Why is there a  _ but _ ?"

"I really need to know what's going to happen, like, between us. The more time we spend together, the more I want. It's like a drug. But I don't want to be heartbroken."

Harry sighed and rolled on top of Louis, making him whine. He buried his face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the fresh scent of his skin.

"I don't want to break your heart," he whispered, kissing the spot just under his ear. "But I don't know how to answer your question."

Louis wriggled under him and despite the seriousness of the conversation, Harry could feel him getting hard against his hip.

"It could work, you know," Louis whispered back, sliding his hand up Harry's arm. "Long distance relationships can work. I just need to know if you want it to."

"Of course I want it to work, Louis, but…"

"Why is there a  _ but _ ?"

Harry smiled and slipped his fingers in Louis' pajamas. His cock was already hard, Harry took it and began to stroke him, waiting to be pushed back. But Louis moaned. Of course Harry wanted it to work. Louis was everything he had ever dreamed of; his amazing kindness, his positive attitude, his sense of family, his crystal-clear blue eyes, the curves of his body, his red full lips. He didn't know he could crave something this much. But here Louis was.

Louis' fingers slipped in Harry's pajamas and he tugged at them, stroking his bum. Harry was too turned on for a man almost in his thirties, who had already come three times. He aligned his hips and thrusted forward. He would have liked if Louis had abandoned this conversation, so that they could focus on things a lot more pleasing. But Louis was fucking stubborn.

"You're scared," Louis sighed, his nails scratching the fine skin.

And how could he not be? Harry was terrified. Until now, he only had relationships that hadn't really mattered, but that had left enough rancor and bitterness. But with Louis, despite the little time they spent together, he knew he didn't want that. Louis was worth so much more. 

"Okay, let's say it works," Harry said, straightening a bit. Wo go back and forth every now and then to see each other."

"That's absolutely doable."

"But after six months, we hit a wall. I cannot constantly leave the restaurant and the twins can't deal with you leaving again. We get tensed up and we fight, because we don't know what else to do. And then we finally break up that'll leave us both wrecked. We deserve so much better, Lou. So maybe we should just make the most of what we can get before I leave."

In the darkness, Harry could see Louis smile despite his sad eyes. His hand came to rest on Harry's nape, playing with his hair.

"Dear God, Harry, you're so pessimistic.”

"I'm sorry," Harry winced.

"I have another scenario for you?"

"I'm listening."

"I'm in love with you."

Harry froze. Had he heard him right? His heart started to beat fast in his chest and Louis must have felt his distress, because he wriggled under him, leaning on his elbows.

"I'm so sorry to blurt it out like that. But it's the truth. I'm deeply, madly, utterly in love with you. And it’s not because you leave in a few days. Or even because it makes me feel so good. I don't even understand why it happened now, I just know that I'm in love with you. I know you have your life in San Francisco and I'm a full package. Three for the price of one… I know it's probably not the life you've dreamed of and I cannot blame you, but…"

"Another _but_?" Harry whispered, feverish.

Louis burst out in laughter. Harry laid on top of him, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. Louis wrapped his arms around him. There was no way he couldn’t feel his quick heartbeats or how badly he was shaking.

"But I know what I want. And you're all I want."

Nobody had ever spoken to him with such sincerity and Harry had a hard time not crying. Too many thoughts muddled his mind and his stomach twitched with want and fear.

"Harry, I cannot believe you have such a hard-on while I just opened my heart to you," Louis chuckled.

Indeed, Harry had realized this. Fuck. Louis was in love with him. And for the first time in his life, Harry felt able to love. To love Louis. He wasn't afraid anymore.

"Love turns me on," Harry admitted, slightly moving his hips.

Under his body, he could feel that Louis was as turned on as he was. Louis gasped when Harry slid his pajamas down his legs. Then he stripped off his own. Harry knelt between his thighs when he turned on his stomach.

"I know you said you wouldn't fall in love," Louis said, voice muffled by the pillow.

"Shhhh."

Harry bent to grab a condom on the floor, put it on, covered his length with lube and pressed the tip of his cock against Louis' rim. He leaned on him and kissed his shoulder.

"I don't wanna pressure you," Louis went on.

"Goddamn, Louis, I know why Doris is so talkative," Harry giggled.

"Don't talk about my sister when you're about to fuck me."

Louis moaned loudly when Harry pushed his cock all the way in. He turned his head to the side with pleading eyes and Harry kissed him hotly, sliding his tongue between his lips.

"You're all I want, too," he whispered against his lips. "Everything I've ever dreamed of."

And he knew that these few words were enough to transmit what he still couldn't say out loud. And Harry prayed with all his heart that it'd work, even if he knew that he had nothing to lose now. Life would be bland without him from now on.


	11. Chapter 11

It was hot. Louis' kitchen was small and the delicious smells coming from the different pans on the stove made Harry's stomach gurgle. He had spent the entire day in the kitchen, cooking a nice meal for everyone. Outside, it was dark, but the wind was blowing hard against the windows. He heard bursts of laughter in the living-room and he couldn't help but smile in a silly way. This New Year's Eve was going to be a happy one. Harry had been a little anxious when Liam and Zayn arrived, but his fears quickly disappeared. They got along so well with Louis and couldn't stop giving a lot of praises, while adding some embarrassing stories in between. Then Niall had arrived and Harry totally fall under the spell of his good humor and his jokes that could make one die of laughing. Niall was really close to the kids and it was obvious that he had a significant role in their lives. Finally, Lottie had joined them and Harry had discovered she was a strong and ambitious woman, who despite her young age, had risen through the ranks of a cosmetic start-up. Harry admired their strong bond. Despite the numerous obstacles they had overcome, they knew that they had to enjoy every second of their lives. A beautiful life lesson. Louis's others sisters had decided that they ere too cool to spend New Year's Eve with their big brother, but they had Skyped him. That's how Harry had met them. But they obviously knew him already.  _ Harry, you're prettier than what Louis told us _ . Louis had hung up without saying goodbye, his face turning crimson.

Harry came back to earth when someone cleared their throat, making him turn around. Zayn was there, a glass of champagne in his hand. He was handsome in his navy blue suit. Doris had colored in his tatoos on his arms. That was so cute.

"Do you need some help? You've been in there for almost twenty minutes."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I struggle a bit with this stove. Can you have a look at the pan-fried chanterelles, please?"

Zayn nodded and took place behind the stove. He took the handle of the pan and with a quick flick of the wrist, he sautéd the chanterelles. As for Harry, he checked the cooking of the beef Wellington.

"The kids gave Liam a strong baby fever," Zayn said, smiling. "He won't leave alone with the subject now."

"I understand. They're adorable."

"They seem to like you a lot. They cannot stop talking about you. Almost as much as Louis."

Harry tried to remain neutral, but couldn't help the smile playing at his lips. Zayn didn't miss it.

"God, Harry, you're absolutely under his spell," he chuckled. "But you look genuinely happy."

"I am. Louis is really… Amazing."

There were so many adjectives to describe the man. But none did justice.

"The way you look at him is amazing too. It's almost embarassing."

Zayn gave another flick of the wrist to sauté the chanterelles. Harry watched him and suddenly felt the surge to tell him everything, even if he knew it was the time.

"Zayn, I need to talk to you."

His friend turned to him, worried look on his face.

"What's wrong? You're scaring me."

"I… Well… Fuck, why is it so hard to tell? I didn't create the new menu. I cannot. I have no inspiration at all. I thought that coming here would help, but…"

"You had other things in mind. I can't really blame you."

A wave of relief washed over Harry as he saw the creeping smile on his bestfriend's face. He leaned again the counter top.

"You're not angry?" he asked, just to reassure himself.

"Of course not, Haz", Zayn sighed, shaking his head. "It was really important that you rested. You don't realized how much you were in pain."

Harry lowered his head, biting his lip. Perhaps he had underestimated his ill-being that had wrecked him for years. Zayn got closer and ruffled his hair.

"Don't be too tough with yourself. And as for the menu, well…"  Zayn winced, rubbing his neck.

"What?" Harry asked, frowning.

"I know it's your job and that you are the chef, but maybe I… Well, I had some ideas. I wanted to tell you about it but it never seemed to be the right time."

Zayn took his phone out of his pocket, scrolled down a few seconds, and handed it to Harry.

Roasted langoustines with radishes tartare, scallop and yuzu carpaccio, sole wrapped in bacon with grilled butternut squash, duck with a hazelnut crust and creamy polenta, poached pears with honey, chocolate and coffee cream flavored with beer.

The menu was amazing, original, using seasonal products. Everything they had ever done in the restaurant. Zayn watched Harry with a funny look, fearing his reaction. Harry was bluffed by his bestfriend's talent.

"It's amazing, Zayn. The combinations are perfect. It's a wonderful menu."

He handed the phone back to Zayn and he put it back in his pocket. Harry was sure he saw him blush. Zayn went back to his chanterelles and put them in a plate. Harry got the beef Wellington out of the oven.

"Thanks a lot. I know we have to fill it out, but…"

"Would you be able to do it on your own?" Harry cut him off, taking a knife from a drawer.

"What do you mean?" Zayn asked, confused.

Harry began to cut the slices. He couldn't look at him in the eyes. He took a deep breath before he said.

"I'd like you to manage the brigade a while. I'd like… I don't wanna go just now. I want to spend more time with Louis and the kids. I know it's a big responsability, you have the right to say no, but…"

"Are you seriously asking me to replace you?" Zayn cut him off, with wild eyes.

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "I trust you. And your menu is perfect. You'd be an excellent chef."

Zayn didn't say a thing for a while, placing the slices of beef in a plate. Harry could almost hear his brain racing and he held his breath, waiting for his answer. Finally, Zayn lifted his head, a strand of hair falling in front of his eyes.

"I won't deceive you," he smiled.

Harry smiled back and walked around the central island to hug him tight. Zayn kissed his cheek.

"What you have with Louis is precious," he whispered. "Don't waste it."

Harry nodded, blushing. He intended to make the most of his time left.

"Guys, are you coming? We're starving!"

Zayn and Harry stepped back and glanced at Louis, who was standing against the door frame. Zayn smiled and the different plates, leaving the kitchen to go to the dining-room. Harry took the beef and walked to Louis. He kissed his mouth quickly.

"I was almost jealous," Louis whispered, his voice malicious.

"No need to be, honey," Harry chuckled. "We were talking about you."

He couldn't wait to tell him everything. They joined their friends and Harry blushed under their cheerings. Next to him, Louis slided his hand on his thighs. He was more than ever sure that his place was here.

***

They had finished their meal a long time ago, but alcohool was pouring in and bursts of laughter echoed in the room. The kids were slumped on the couch, watching a Disney cartoon with big eyes. Harry had never thought kids could have this much energy. Just like them, he wanted the night to never end.

A glass of wine in his hand, he watched Louis talking about the new series of books he was writing. Harry was amazed by the way Louis talked about his job. He was so passionate, he didn't seem to get bored. He had gold at his fingertips. Harry hadn't even realized he was leaning to kiss Louis' shoulder. But boos brought him back to earth.

"Guys, be careful," Liam laughed. "There are children here."

Harry chuckled and Louis sticked his tongue out at him. But his cheeks were cutely red.

"I wonder what's so interessing about him anyway," Lottie joked, rolling her eyes.

"I think he had wonderful eyes," Harry answered, alcohol dissolving his tongue.

"He thinks my ass is wonderful too," Louis said, smirking.

It was Harry's turn to blush. Their friends bursted out of laughter and Louis winked at him. Harry should have kissed him to make him pay his insolence.

"I think that's a bit petty of you to…"

He couldn't finish his phrase, because Doris jumped on his lap, crushing his thighs. She wrapped her little arms around his neck and he kissed her cheek. She smelled like vanilla ; they had convinced Louis to let her wear perfume for the night. Harry had braided her hair like a crown and used a sparkle spray. He couldn't have make her happier.

"What's wrong, darling?" he asked.

"Is it midnight yet? I wanna throw the confettis!"

Harry glanced at his watch.

"There are seventen minutes left," he answered. "Go and take the small bags, they're on the console table."

Climbing down his lap, Doris kicked him on his arm and Harry knocked over his glass on his shirt. He hissed at the cold fabric on his skin. Doris looked at him with horrified eyes.

"Sorry, Harry! I'm so sorry!"

Louis quickly pressed his napkin on the wine stain. Doris was on the verge of crying and Harry rushed to take her in his arms.

"It's okay, sweetheart, don't worry! I don't blame you, these things happen. Go get the confettis, I'm gonna change my shirt and then we'll have a lot of fun!"

Doris was smiling again. Harry apologized to his friends and quickly went upstairs, in Louis' bedroom. His burgandy satin shirt was ruined, but he didn't care. He took his bow tie off and unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the floor. He told himself he really to need to tidy the room the next. His clothes, Louis's, even the kids's. Despite all his efforts to keep the house clean, Louis wasn't fond of tidying. Harry was living with them for two days, since Niall had came back from San Francisco. Harry rummaged around his suitcase but couldn't find another shirt. He couldn't spend the New Year's Even in a tee-shirt. Crouched down on the floor, he wondered what he was going to do, when he heard a slight knock on the door. It opened and a smiling Louis appeared.

"You're truly amazing with kids," he raved. "But I'm sorry for your shirt."

"I don't mind," Harry sighed, getting up. "But I have nothing else to wear."

"Oh. Wait a second. I may have something for you."

Louis walked to his wardrobe and rummaged around it, thoughtful. God, he was so sexy on his pine green trousers and white shirt. He had rolled up his sleeves, his dark tatoos on full display. Overall, he looked genuinely happy. Rosy cheeks, sparkling eyes, a smile that hadn't vanished since the begining of the evening. He was stunning.

"Ah, here we go! I've got it! It's a bit too large for me, it might suit you."

Louis turned around with a grey cotton shirt and handed to Harry. He faced him and began to button it. Then he bent to pick up the bow tie. The single sight of his ass, squeezed tight in his trousers, made Harry want to close the door and make love to Louis right the carpet, without waiting for the guests to leave. The moment was intimate, just the two of them, it was perfect. Downstairs, their friends had a cheerful conversation. Maybe Harry had time to talk to Louis. He grabbed his wrist when Lous tied his bow.

"Zayn worked on the menu," Harry said. "His ideas are excellent. He's going to manage the brigade for a while."

Louis looked at him with his polar blue eyes, confused. Harry smiled and stroked his cheek.

"What does it mean?" Louis asked, frowning.

"It means that I'm gonna stay a little longer," Harry whispered. "If you'll have me."

He had a blank face for a second, then his eyes lit up. He wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and hugged him tight. He stepped back and pressed his lips on his.

"Fuck, Harry," he whispered back.

Harry looked at the reflexion in the miror. Louis was standing on his tiptoes, his fingers fumbling his bow tie, his moved looked and suddenly Harry saw another scene in front of his eyes. A scene that could come from a futur more or less distant, if Harry wanted to. He was in love. The simple thought hit him like a train. It took his breath away and his blood seemed to have left his face to take refuge in his heart, which beat faster and faster. Louis looked at him strangely.

"What's wrong, baby?"

Harry rushed towards him, cupping his face to kiss him hotly. Louis hissed, surprised, and stumbled backwards. He grabbed Harry's shirt and got closer, sliding his tongue between his parted lips. A little shriek made them jump, like two teenagers caught red-handed. Doris and Ernest were standing by the door frame, as surprised as Louis and Harry were.

"What are you doing here?" Louis asked, broken voice.

"It's almost midnight," Ernest explained, red cheeks.

"You were kissing him on the mouth!" Doris exclaimed, as if it weren't obvious.

She didn't look scandalized, but excited. Ernest was smirking.

"Does it mean you're in love?" the little girl went on, hands on her hips.

Louis looked at Harry, waiting for his answer. Harry grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers.

"Yes, we are in love," he nodded.

"Have you got something to say, little monsters?"

Louis sounded at ease and confident, but his damp palm betrayed his nervosity. Ernest got closer softly, eyes sparkling.

"Does it mean that Harry will sleep in our bedroom then? He's promised."

They bursted out of laughter. Louis ruffled his brother's hair and pushed him towards the door, dragging Harry behind him.

"There's a lot of things the four of us need to talk about, but right now, hurry up! We're gonna miss the countdown!"

They ran down the stairs. Doris was already telling everyone that she saw Harry and Louis kiss and that they were in love. Their friends looked at them with tenderized eyes, making the two of them roll their eyes. Then, everyone looked at the big clock hung on the wall and held their breaths.

10

9

8

7

6

5

4

3

2

1

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!"

They hugged and kissed each other, while Doris and Ernest were throwing confettis and exploded the balloons they had spent the afternoon blowing up.

Whereas their friends toasted with their glasses of champagne, Louis took Harry's arm and dragged him aside. He kissed him without even thinking of their surrending.

"Happy New Year, Lou," Harry whispered against his mouth.

"Happy New Year, darling," Louis giggled. "Is it true that we're in love then?"

"Yeah. That's so unfortunate," Harry joked. "Let's make it work then."

Louis kissed him again, harder this time. He smelled like after shave and tasted like champagne. It was perfect. After that, they kept on partying, dancing, singing, laughting and drinking. And everything felt right, easy. That's where Harry wanted to be. Nothing else mattered. Glancing above Louis' shoulder, he could see his friends encouraging looks. They had understood too. Maybe even before Harry himself. And he realized that Louis had understood too, when, in the crook of his neck, he said these three little words Harry had always dreamed about. And what's even better was that, for the first time, Harry was able to say them back.

What a great way to start the year! 


	12. EPILOGUE

**One year later**

"Doris, be careful, don't burn yourself. The cake has to cool down before we start decorating it."

"Can we use fresh raspberries? It'd be so nice."

"Yeah, that's what we gonna do."

"Did you bake some for us?"

"No, I bake you cookies, with white chocolate chips and hazelnuts. Your favorite."

"Why does Louis have a special cake?"

"Because it's a special day."

Harry swiped his hands on his apron and sighed heavily. He'd been in the kitchen since the morning to cook the Christmas meal, but what took him a long time was the dark chocolat fondant with raspberries and hot pepper. It was Louis' favorite, but it was quite hard to bake. Fortunately, Doris and Ernest helped him a lot. He glanced at his watch. Their guests were to arrive in less than two hours.

A lot of things had changed in one year. So much that Harry sometimes hardly realized it. After New Year's Eve, he had stayed two more weeks at Louis's before going back to San Francisco. Every month, one of them came to visit the other for a few days. But, as Harry had predicted, it lasted six months. Too many tensions and frustrations had settled between them. They had finally broken up, which had left Harry with a heart in pieces.

But, a few weeks later, he had decided he had enough. He went back to Northleach and Louis found him at the front door, with in one hand a suitcase and in the other some papers that might interest Louis. Harry had sold his parts of the restaurant to Zayn, who was now the only owner and new chef of La Fine Bouche. His villa had also found another owner quickly. Harry had only left in San Francisco his friends and family sad to see him leave, but at the same time happy that he joined the love of his life.

Moving in with Louis was easy. He found his marks quickly. But it was a little harder for the children, who, despite their love for Harry, were sometimes jealous to share their beloved brother. However, they were closer than ever.

Harry got a plate out of the cupboard and put the fondant in the center.

"Come on, put the raspberries. I'm gonna put the coulis."

They decorated the plate and Harry watched with amusement the way the children were extremely focused. He put the candle on the fondant and lit it. A drop of sweat ran down his spine. Perhaps he was a little more stressed than he would admit it.

"I hope you kept your tongue, little monsters," he said, with a look he wanted serious and overbearing.

"We know how to keep a secret," Doris replied, indignant.

"I can't wait to see his face when you're gonna tell him!" Ernest exclaimed, clapping his hands.

"I cannot wait too," Harry chuckled. "Alright, let's go. Have you got the present?"

They nodded and Doris wriggled the small red bag she had in hand. Harry took the envelope that laid on the counter top and let the kids take the plate, hoping they wouldn't let the cake fall on the floor.

Harry opened the kitchen door and they walked quietly down the corridor. Louis was in the living-room, standing on a chair, on tiptoes, trying to fix the star at the top of the Christmas tree. He had put a jazzy playlist on and started a fire. His sweater hitched up his hips and the fairy lights made shadows dance on his skin. The atmosphere was so cosy and intimate that Harry's heart beat faster.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, Loulou, happy birthday to you!"

Louis jumped and turned towards them, a hand on his chest. Harry came to him and stretched his arms out to help him.

"Get down, honey, before you break your neck," he asked.

Louis put his hands on Harry's shoulders and jumped, wrapping his legs around his waist. Louis smelled like cinnamon. Harry put him down on the couch and sat on the arm of the couch. The kids put the cake in front of him and Louis looked at it with want.

"You're so nice, darlings, thank you so much," he smiled.

"Blow the candle now! And you need to make a wish!"

Louis blew hard, putting the candle out. The kids clapped their hands and hopped around. Before he even had time to bite a piece of his cake, Doris jumped on his lap.

"Wait! We have presents for you?"

"Really?"

"Of course, that's the aim of birthdays," Harry said.

He handed Louis the envelope. He looked at it curiously. Harry held his breath when he opened it. He smiled when he discovered the kids' drawings, representing the four of them in their new life. Then he became more serious when he saw Harry's present.

"What's this?" he asked, frowning.

Harry didn't answer, just watched Louis when his face turned from confusion to illumination. He turned to Harry, his smile so wild his eyes crinkled.

"Fuck, Harry, are you serious?" he breathed out, looking moved.

"You said a dirty word!" Ernest scolded.

"Is it true? Is it really true?" Louis asked, ignoring his brother's comment.

"It's true," Harry nodded. "I signed the papers yesterday. I officially own the restaurant. There's gonna be a lot of work to do, but I think we'll be able to open during spring."

Louis kept quiet a few seconds, looking shocked. Harry was proud of his surprise. A few days after his moving in, Harry had realized that he missed cooking. That's why he had made an appointment with real estate agent. She had made him visit the restaurant in town and he had a real crush. He didn't take long to make an offer. Harry already knew what he wanted to do. A small bistro without pretentiousness, where he could cook simple and authentic dishes. He didn't want to have the famous status he had in San Francisco. He even found the name for the restaurant : L'Atelier Gourmand. Always a sweet French touch. He was happy to be creative again. Perhaps he had too much ideas.

"That's amazing news, baby, I'm so happy," Louis said, his eyes blurred with tears. "And thanks a lot, kiddos, for your drawings, they're wonderful. Do you…"

"You've got another present!" Doris cut him off. "Close your eyes!"

Louis obliged and Harry's heart raced. Doris opened the bag and took a velvet ring box out. She opened it, gently removed the ring and waited for Harry to nod before putting it in Louis' palm.

"You can open your eyes," Ernest said.

Harry was on the verge of fainting when Louis opened his eyes. He looked at the silver ring with a black edge, confused.

"What is it?" he whispered.

"Don't you guess?" Doris asked, excited.

"I'm a bit…"

"Do you wanna marry Harry?" Ernest shouted, not containing himself anymore.

Louis gasped loudly and Harry took the ring from his palm. Louis looked at him and the tears ran down his cheeks.

"I hope these are tears of joy," Harry smiled, putting the ring on Louis' ring finger.

"Are you really asking me to marry you?" Louis asked, voice dry.

"It looks like it. Little monsters, do you think he's gonna say yes?"

The kids were so excited, hopping around them.

"Say yes, Loulou! I'll be a bridesmaid!"

"Come on, say yes!"

Louis' hand was hot against Harry's and tugged him towards him. Harry wrapped his arms around his waist and Louis hid his face in the crook of his neck.

"That's too much emotion for a birthday," he panted.

"I'm still waiting for your answer, honey."

Louis stepped back enough to look at him in the eyes. He leaned in and briefly kissed his mouth.

"Of course I wanna marry you!" he grinned. I wouldn't want Doris to miss the opportunity of being a bridesmaid."

Then he bursted out of laughter and lay back on the couch, dragging Harry with him. Harry trembled so much he had trouble keeping his weight on his arms. He kissed Louis, longer this time.

"You couldn't make me happier," he whispered against his neck. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby. You know what? I'm really glad I knocked on that door while being drunk as a skunk," he giggled.

"Indeed, that's a damned twist of fate!"

Louis grabbed his neck and kissed him dirty, sliding his tongue into his waiting mouth. Doris and Ernest made a disgust sound and threw cushions at them, making them laugh harder. Harry would never have thought that his place would be here, 5 000 miles from San Francisco, in a country where rain and wind punctuated their days. He would never have thought he would have left his restaurant and everything he'd ever known to live in a small town where everyone knew everyone. He would never have thought that he would fall in love with the man under him that wriggled to flee the attacks of his brother and sister. And yet… And yet, here he was. He'd never leave this place. This place he called home.


End file.
